Hope for Healing
by WastingYourGum
Summary: Post 2x11. One of the gang is caught and killed and Marian falls gravely ill. As Robin desperately tries to see her, Guy looks for someone to cure her. Perhaps the witch looking after the castle's mysterious new prisoner can help? Rated M for violence.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I'll hopefully be updating this twice weekly. I will not hold chapters to ransom for reviews but they are very much appreciated, let me know what I'm doing right (and wrong!) and give me hope that I'm not just writing this for my own amusement! Thank you to my lovely betas JAGNikJen and RobinFanatic.

**Disclaimer**: BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything. No money is being made from this and Vaizey would just tax it anyway....

**Summary**: Set at the start of July, shortly after 2x11. Robin and the gang attempt to see Marian after rumours the Nightwatchman was captured. One of the outlaws is unable to escape, with tragic consequences...

**

* * *

CHAPTER 1**

"Outlaws!"

The early morning calm of Nottingham Castle was disturbed by shouts, the clash of weapons and then the sounds of a frantic chase.

Little John skidded to a halt at a junction of corridors with Djaq, Robin and Much right behind him. He turned and raised his eyebrows enquiringly at Robin.

"Split up!" Robin instructed. "John, Djaq, you go that way." He pointed. "Will should be waiting outside. We'll meet up at the West Gate!"

They all nodded in agreement and Robin and Much tore off up one corridor while John followed Djaq down the other. They swung around a corner and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily and listening for their pursuers. For a few hopeful moments there was silence but then the sound of armoured feet rang out from behind them.

"In here!" Djaq pulled opened the door nearest them and ushered John inside.

He ran in but stopped immediately and felt Djaq bump into his back as she followed him.

"John! Why did you--? Oh."

There was little need for him to explain why he'd stopped - the room was barely bigger than he was. It was actually just a large storage cupboard with one small window about eight feet off the ground. Djaq turned to open the door again but John stopped her. He reached round her and braced his staff across the door through the heavy iron handle. Once his hands were free he crouched down, grabbed Djaq's hips and lifted her up off the ground in front of him.

"What are you doing, John?" she hissed as he shuffled round to face the back wall.

"Getting you out of here," he replied, simply.

"I'm not leaving you here alone!" she protested. They both paused and looked back at the door as it started rattling in its hinges from the efforts of the guards outside trying to open it.

"Please, Djaq - better at least one of us gets away! Robin and Much are probably out already. Go find them and come back for me."

"No! Put me down!" She wriggled and pressed against his forearms with her hands but John's grip was unshakable.

"Djaq." John waited for her to turn and meet his eyes. "You saved my life the day we met - let me repay the debt. Besides...Will would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you."

Djaq flushed the same colour as her love's last name at the mention of his first.

John chuckled then hoisted her up to the window. "Go! I'll be fine."

Djaq nodded and pulled herself up through the small opening. "I _will _see you later, John!" she vowed and then she was gone.

John silently slid his staff out from where it was wedged across the door and listened to the guards arguing outside. He twisted his neck one way then the other, then put his hand to the handle. He took a deep breath and pushed the door violently outwards. It collided with a solid weight and John leapt out into the corridor yelling, "Come on then!"

~o~o~O~o~o~

Djaq heard the shouted challenge and then the sounds of furious combat from within as she dropped down the wall outside. When she landed, she listened for a moment, but she couldn't tell if the fighting had ceased or if she could just no longer hear it. She spied Will waving to her from further up the street and they took off through the alleyways as a guard on the battlements spotted her and shouted to his colleagues.

"Where're the others?" Will asked as she reached him.

"Robin, Much, West Gate," she gasped, too breathless to give any more detail.

"And John?" Will asked, a note of concern in his voice.

Djaq shook her head. "Still inside."

Will nodded, his lips set in a firm line.

It took a while to work their way stealthily through the town, avoiding the guards who had been sent out to search for them. As she and Will approached the West Gate, Djaq spotted Much and Robin lurking in an alley. They looked up hopefully but their faces fell as they saw only two where three were expected.

"So the rumours are true then?" Robin asked. "They got John?"

"You have already heard?" Djaq replied, surprised at how swiftly the news had travelled.

"It's all over the town," Much told her.

"I'm sorry, Robin - it was my fault," Djaq said guiltily. "We got stuck and--"

"Djaq - if it's anyone's fault, it's mine." Robin laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I was the one who led you all in there. Besides..." he smiled. "Do you think I expect you to knock John out and carry him if you get into trouble and he argues with you?"

Djaq smiled sadly and shook her head. "I still should not have let him talk me into leaving him behind."

"What are they saying?" Will asked, looking at the townspeople passing excited gossip around the busy marketplace.

"The sheriff's not wasting any time," Much replied with a worried frown. "John's to be executed at noon."

Djaq was stunned. "Today? So soon? They're not holding him to try to get information out of him?"

"Maybe they realised they wouldn't get anything out of John that easily," said Will.

"No - or more likely the execution is a trap," Much added. "But you have a plan - right, Master?"

"Of course!" Robin replied. "Well... half a plan..."

~o~o~O~o~o~

Robin caught the guard's unconscious body before it fell and lowered it quietly to the ground. He looked down, trying to pick out Much, Will and Djaq as they shuffled into the castle courtyard with the rest of the townspeople. They kept their heads bowed but Robin recognised Much's familiar face as he briefly looked up. Once he had located Much it was easy to spot Will and Djaq standing by his side.

Much's eyes widened as he looked towards the gallows and Robin quickly followed his gaze. It took him a moment to see what had surprised Much but then he realised his confusion. Mercifully no body was yet swinging from the beam but then neither was there any sign of a rope. The execution was scheduled for noon and the sun was almost directly overhead - where was the noose?

Everyone looked to the door from the Great Hall as the fanfare sounded and the execution party came out. The sheriff almost skipped down the stairs towards the gallows, whistling as he went. Behind him it took the combined efforts of three guards to wrestle the large figure of Little John down the same stairs and up to the platform. John's coat and jerkin had been stripped from him leaving him in just his shirt sleeves. From the look of the cuts and bruises on his face and arms he had not willingly surrendered them.

Robin glanced back into the crowd. Djaq's face gave away nothing but Robin saw Will put his arm around her and gently squeeze her shoulder. His eyes met Robin's as he surreptitiously scanned the battlements and they exchanged a brief nod.

Robin crouched below the parapet and silently fitted an arrow to his bow. He peered over the stone wall and quickly studied the faces on the castle steps for Marian, frowning when he didn't immediately spot her. Gisborne was there, slowly walking down towards the gallows, but Marian was noticeably absent.

He wondered if she had feigned illness or given some other excuse and hoped fervently that neither she nor the Nightwatchman were planning anything dangerous. The recent rumours said the Nightwatchman had been captured and had escaped again but Marian had not been allowed out of the castle since then and they were still no nearer to finding out why. If she had been discovered, surely he would have heard, but it was too much of a coincidence and not knowing was driving Robin to distraction. Not knowing - and not seeing her, not holding her, not breathing her scent...

The sheriff's voice drew Robin's attention back to the task in hand and he swiftly put Marian to the back of his mind. He would have to trust for now that she was safe - Little John was not.

"Good people of Nottingham - I'm sure you've all turned up today thinking you'll get to see that _wonderful _little trick Hood does shooting the hangman's rope." Vaizey mimed shooting a bow very effeminately and chuckled. "But alas, we've had a small change in our outlaw extermination policy..."

The guards pushed John back against the gallows upright and bound his hands behind it. They tied more ropes around his chest, waist, legs and ankles. John roared and the whole platform trembled with his struggles but by the time they'd finished he could barely move. He glared furiously at the back of Vaizey's head.

Robin felt his heart sinking - it would take forever to cut through all those ropes. What was Vaizey up to?

"These _men _of Hood's are not men at all!" Vaizey spat. "They are nothing but animals, living wild in the forest - and we don't hang animals..." While he was speaking Gisborne stepped up onto the platform and pulled a large sack over John's head. "We _slaughter _them."

There was a glint of metal as Gisborne took a blade from his sleeve. He grabbed John's chin and pushed his head back against the beam then to gasps and cries from the crowd, swiftly sliced the blade across his throat. A vivid scarlet stain spread rapidly down John's pale shirt. His large body twitched and jerked for a few moments before Gisborne released his hold. John's head slumped forward and his body sagged against the ropes. Gisborne calmly wiped the blade and put it back in its concealed sheath, stepping back hastily as the flow of blood reached the ground and started spreading across the platform. He strode away and headed back into the castle as calmly as if he'd been out for a short walk.

From his vantage point concealed high above the courtyard, Robin stared in disbelief at the still, bloody figure bound to the gallows. He only just stopped himself from dropping his now useless bow.

Vaizey was almost obscenely delighted. "You see? _This _is what happens to outlaws and murderers; associates of Robin Hood who lie in wait like cowards in the trees, stealing the very bread from your mouths... because make no mistake - every time they rob some poor traveller coming through Sherwood, that is money that is not being added to your local economy; money that helps us to provide the services that you have come to expect from your benevolent sheriff and beloved Prince John."

Robin hastily sought out the rest of his gang in the crowd. Much's face had turned white and he looked as if he was trying very hard not to throw up. Djaq had turned and buried her face in Will's chest - Robin knew she must be feeling horribly guilty. Will was softly stroking her back trying to comfort her. His jaw was clenched and his eyes burned fiercely with anger.

Robin looked one last time at the figures on the castle steps, now partially hoping that Marian had _not _been there. He noticed that Allan was wiping his sleeve across his face, which was as pale as Much's. Unfortunately for the traitor, Gisborne noted the gesture as he headed back inside and cuffed Allan harshly round the head. Robin didn't feel sorry for him in the slightest.

"A very successful day's work, I think... One _large _problem solved, eh?" Vaizey rubbed his hands together gleefully. "That's it - show's over - go get on with your humdrum little lives." He hopped down from the gallows and strolled back into the castle.

The guards started marshalling the crowd out of the courtyard. Robin saw Will, Djaq and Much being carried along on the tide of people, too stunned to do anything else. As he looked back, he saw other guards cut down John's body and drag it away. Some servants appeared with buckets of water and started to wash down the platform.

Robin hastily put his unloosed arrow back in his quiver, shouldered his bow and dropped over the battlements to rejoin his suddenly diminished and demoralised gang. Marian would have to wait a while longer...


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: Thank you so much to the people who reviewed Chapter 1!

**Illegally Anonymous**: I will be posting the whole thing here but it'll be updated about 3 chapters behind LiveJournal - I usually post stuff there first because I prefer the format of comments there.

**Wenrom31**: Flattery will get you everywhere! ;) You are far too kind, as usual!

**charlemagnebrat1**: Since you asked so nicely... ;)

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**Disclaimer**: BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary**: Guy explains Marian's absence to the sheriff; Allan cleans up the courtyard; Much and the gang try to deal with their loss...

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**CHAPTER 2**

**~o~o~o~  
**

Guy was waiting in the Great Hall when the sheriff strolled back in from the execution, humming happily to himself. Allan slouched in shortly after Vaizey and staggered down the stairs, still pale in the face and clearly in shock.

"Allan!" The bark from Guy made Allan's head snap up. "Go make sure everyone is out of the courtyard and the portcullis has been lowered. We don't want any of your old friends trying to hide inside, do we?"

Allan nodded, turned and started trudging up the stairs again without any of his usual cheeky remarks.

Guy was surprised. He'd always got the impression his boy had never much cared for any of his former comrades.

"They'd be fools to try given what we just did to that old brute," Vaizey chuckled as he sat down and helped himself to some fruit. "That should make Hood think twice before trying to get in here again."

"Indeed, my Lord," Guy agreed. He was still looking to where Allan had disappeared with his head hung and shoulders drooped.

"I notice Marian didn't feel the need to join us in today's activities," Vaizey said slowly.

Guy turned to face the sheriff.

Vaizey popped a grape into his mouth and looked at Guy expectantly.

"She is unwell, my Lord," Guy replied. "The maid who took her breakfast this morning reported that she was pale and had a slight fever. She wished to remain in her room for the day."

Even though Guy now knew Marian to be much stronger than he had previously suspected, he could hardly blame her for wishing to be absent from today's events. He still had his doubts about just how sympathetic she was to Hood and his men, but he knew she disapproved of Vaizey's methods regardless of their victim.

"Hmm, _remarkable _how her illnesses always seem to coincide with my executions," Vaizey sneered as he finished his snack.

Guy kept his expression carefully neutral and didn't answer. The last thing he wanted was for Vaizey to consider what else Marian's past "illnesses" had coincided with. The Nightwatchman was no more - and had last been seen when Marian was in full view - so with luck the sheriff would never make the connection.

Of course, there was also always a chance, however small, that on this occasion she was genuinely ill. Guy vowed to call on her later, just in case.

"Anyway, Gisborne," Vaizey clapped his hands together and stood up sharply. "Shall we go and discuss how we're going to get my Pact back?"

Guy nodded and obediently followed him from the room...

~o~o~O~o~o~

Allan tugged at his collar as he stepped back outside into the bright sunshine. Black might look good, but it was murder to wear when the weather was this warm - and it was still only the start of July; the heat would only get worse throughout the rest of the month and into August.

He stopped at the top of the steps and looked at the servants scrubbing at the gallows platform. The pale pink water splashed off the edges onto the cobbles and ran down towards the gutter at the portcullis. The sight made him suddenly nauseous and he tugged at his collar once more.

_An' I thought 'angings were bad enough..._

Allan considered for a moment whether he should go find out what they'd done with John's body. There would be nothing of any value on it, he was sure of that, but John was a very visible part of the gang and more than few guards had been on the wrong end of a blow from his quarterstaff. He was torn between making sure the guards didn't do anything to John's body and an overwhelming desire to be as far from it as possible. He wasn't sure how he'd react to seeing it. Granted he hadn't been _directly _responsible for John's death - the outlaws had chosen to come to the castle themselves - but he'd shown Vaizey how to block most of the ways in and out making it that much harder to get away. Who was to say John might not still be alive if Allan had made some different choices?

_An' his wife and kid'll never see him again..._ Allan frowned as he remembered the cheeky-faced youngster and his sad-eyed mother. Wherever they were, they'd be bound to hear the news eventually from some travelling pedlar; Robin Hood's man Little John had been caught by the Sheriff of Nottingham and had his throat slit like a butchered pig...

No. John had made his choices same as Allan had made his and while John's choices had got him killed, Allan now had position, money and respect. He was going to make sure he kept them.

"Oi! You and you, 'elp me search the courtyard - make sure there's nobody 'iding." He pointed at two of the guards and was reassured to see how quickly they responded to his orders.

Besides, he'd never been _that _close to the big man. Sure, John had saved his skin a couple of times but Allan had done the same for him and, yes, he'd always been the first one to laugh at Allan's dodgier jokes but they weren't exactly _mates_. John had just been... someone he knew - someone who wasn't around any more.

_And this is why you don't let yourself care_, Allan thought. _'Cause then you just feel like crap when they leave or get taken from you._..

He took a deep breath.  
_  
__Like you do now..._

He ignored that thought and shoved the pain deep down inside himself, as he always did, then strode off down the steps to start his search...

~o~o~O~o~o~

Much leaned his head back against the alley wall and breathed slowly through his mouth, trying to quell the churning in his stomach. He'd seen so many men die that way in the Holy Land, including some at his own hand - the feel of hot blood as it sprayed across his face still haunted his dreams - but none of those men had made his guts heave in this way. None of them had been bound and powerless to defend themselves. None of them had been friends.

"Much?"

He looked round as he heard Will's voice.

Will kept nervously glancing back out into the street as he shepherded Djaq into the narrow alleyway. Her head was bowed and she seemed to be paying more attention to her feet than to their surroundings.

"Djaq? Are you all right?" Much hesitantly reached out to put his hand on her shoulder and she lifted her head towards him. Her eyes had a strange far-off look as if she was day-dreaming but there was no sign of any tears in them. That look was something Much had also seen too many times.

"I'm fine, thank you, Much," she responded, slowly focusing on him. "We should send somebody to the castle to collect John's things." Her voice was strong but flat and emotionless. She sounded very tired.

"Why don't you and Will go meet with Robin as we planned?" Much suggested. "I'll take care of that."

Djaq nodded distractedly and Will looked at Much gratefully as he put his arm around her and they ducked back out into the bustling street.

Much had to ask a couple of their friends from the town before he found one willing to take the risk of being associated with an outlaw - even a deceased one. One of the townspeople, a more elderly man with no family, eventually agreed and Much waited until he saw him returning from the castle, weighed down by a large sack. Two guards were following him at what they probably thought was a discrete distance but Much spotted them straight away. He ducked round into the next street as the man opened a small window in the back of his house. The man passed the sack out to Much with a brief nod and muttered condolences.

"Thank you." Much gave the man a few coins and peered inside the sack; John's long leather coat, jerkin and boots were instantly recognisable and brought sudden tears to his eyes. Much wiped his face, let out a long shuddering breath then shouldered the burden and headed towards the gates.

He rejoined the others some way outside the town as they'd arranged. At Robin's silent gesture, Much handed over the sack to his former master.

Robin stuck his hand inside and rummaged about. He drew his hand out again holding John's tag that identified him as one of Robin's men and the small piece of polished wood he'd always worn on a leather thong around his neck. Both were still sticky with blood. Robin's lip trembled, and he gripped the small mementos of the large man so tight his knuckles turned white. He put them both on over his own head and still without one word being said, he handed the sack back to Much then turned and headed towards the camp.

Much shouldered the sack again and followed Robin, not really minding the task as it left Will free to continue walking alongside Djaq.

Nobody spoke all the way back to the camp. Much hated the stifling silence but no matter what Allan had said even he could not start a conversation with himself.

When they arrived Much placed the sack carefully on John's bunk, then set about preparing some food. The others also found chores to do and places to look other than the empty bed.

Shortly afterwards Much dished out the meal and the others came over and picked up a bowl and a chunk of bread each. Once they had all helped themselves there was still one bowl and one piece of bread left. There was a horrible moment of stillness as they all stared at them before Much put his bowl down, picked up the spare bowl and redistributed its contents between the other four.

Much sat down and stared miserably at his food - he had never put out an extra bowl by mistake after Allan had left.

It was Robin who eventually broke the silence. "We'll have to redistribute the food parcels for tomorrow's drops."

"We're just going to carry on like nothing's happened?!" Much said, incredulously.

"Yes. That's what John would want," Will said.

Djaq nodded in agreement. "He would want the people to be provided for."

"So we just let them get away with it?" Much seethed. "The sheriff? And Gisborne? They just kill our friend like...like an _animal _and we do _nothing_?!"

"No, we don't do _nothing_, Much!" Robin shouted. "We carry on helping the poor people of Nottingham because that's what John believed in - and we find some way to get the Pact to the king and prove to him that Gisborne and the sheriff are traitors! And then they will pay - for John's death, for Roy, for Edward, for Legrand and for all the others who've died fighting them!"

Much hung his head. "I know," he said quietly. "It's just...it's just not fair - that's all," he sniffed.

Robin sighed, put his bowl down and walked over to Much. He sat beside him and put his arm round him, squeezing his shoulder in sympathy. "No, Much, no it's not. John deserved better."

Djaq suddenly dropped her bowl and ran out of the camp.

Will looked helplessly after her.

"Shouldn't you go after her?" Much asked.

"In a while maybe," Will said. "I'll let her have a moment to herself."

"She knows we don't blame her, doesn't she?" Robin asked him.

"Yes, I think so. Won't stop her blaming herself tho'," Will said. He picked at his food for a few minutes then put it down, still only half-eaten, and headed after Djaq...


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: LadyKate1 **and **Wenrom31 - **thank you so much for the kind reviews.

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**Disclaimer**: BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary**: The same evening: Will goes to find Djaq; Guy visits Marian to ask after her health and Marian hears of the day's events from her maid...

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**CHAPTER 3**

**~o~o~o~**

Will found Djaq sitting with her back to him, on a fallen tree a short distance away from the camp.

She heard him approaching and quickly turned to face him, her hand reaching for her sword hilt. The late evening summer's sun lit her face with a golden glow, making her dark hair and skin shine radiantly. When she saw it was him, her expression softened from wariness to sadness and great longing.

Will felt a deep longing of his own; she was so beautiful but there was still so much unsaid between them. Things were different since Allan had left. They had come to a sort of unspoken agreement that closer physical contact was something they could have. Their hands would reach out and find each other in quiet private moments; she would lean into him if they were sitting together - but at no point had they ever said out loud that their relationship had changed from just friends into something more. It was as if admitting it would somehow damage the fragile illusion that they could have something so normal and, at the same time, so special.

He sat down beside her on the other side of the log, facing the other direction. They turned their bodies towards each other as if to speak but when he saw the pain in her eyes he wordlessly wrapped his arms around her instead. She leaned her cheek against his chest and they sat like that, gradually matching the rhythm of their breathing to one another and neither saying a word, until he suddenly felt her collapse in on herself and a damp feeling against his skin let him know that she had finally allowed her tears to fall.

"Shh, Djaq, it's all right." He stroked her hair as she continued her silent sobbing into his chest.

Djaq took several deep breaths. "Oh, Will - it is so very far from all right."

"There was nothing you could have done - nothing _any _of us could have done."

"It is not just that," she said quietly.

"It's not?" Will frowned. "Then what is it?"

Djaq pulled herself away from him and looked to the ground. When she finally spoke it was very reluctantly. "When Gisborne... When he did what he did... I was happy..."

"Happy?" Will was stunned. That made no sense at all. "Djaq, what--"

"Let me finish." She looked back up at him and the sun caught her face again, glinting off the tear tracks down her cheeks. "I was happy it was not you."

Will felt his mouth drop open in surprise. Djaq's eyes were burning and Will told himself it had to be the sunlight - she could not feel that passionately about him of all people. He didn't dare believe that.

"I love... loved John very much and I will mourn greatly for him - but I could not bear it if something happened to you."

Will couldn't think of a single thing to say to that. He opened his mouth, hoping some words would present themselves but nothing came out. Instead he reached for her again and she sank into his arms.

He started to understand a little of how she must feel - he too was saddened by John's death but now... now he was glad that it had prompted Djaq to admit that he was special to her and for that he felt glad - and also a little guilty.

"I think... I think John would've understood," he finally said. "He knew what it was to have somebody who means more to you than anyone else." He put his hand under her chin and lifted her eyes to meet his again. "And so do I..."

~o~o~O~o~o~

Guy was exhausted.

It had been a long, tiring day; productive, yet ultimately frustrating. The loss of his lieutenant would be a significant blow to Hood but while things were looking much more promising, the sheriff was no closer to actually laying his hands on the Pact of Nottingham than he'd been that morning.

Guy was almost to the door of his room when he realised he hadn't seen Marian at all since yesterday. Since her return to the castle, he had quickly grown accustomed once more to seeing her every day. In fact, he had almost come to depend on it. The thought that she had agreed to remain in the castle at his request had indeed made things bearable on more than one occasion.

He was still certain her "illness" was directly related to Vaizey's "entertainment". Although if that were so, why should she continue the deception well into the evening? At first he had been concerned that her absence meant the execution would be interrupted by the Nightwatchman, but she had stayed true to her word in that respect, so his next logical assumption had been that she merely did not wish to witness it. Now he wondered if she had heard of the part he had played. He still had his doubts about just how sympathetic she was to Hood and his gang but she would hardly think well of him for cutting any man's throat like an animal, whether he be one of Hood's or not.

Several others amongst the nobles had doubtless found the method of execution distasteful but then he had never courted popular opinion. Only one man's opinion really mattered to him - and one woman's; one woman who was not afraid to voice that opinion. Marian did not usually shy away from letting him know of her disapproval - she would confront rather than avoid - and if she was not avoiding him, why else would she remain cooped up in her room on such a warm day?

Now that the suspicion had been planted in his mind that things may not be as he had thought, he had to make sure. He turned and headed towards her chambers.

As he rounded the corner of the corridor leading to her room, he stopped dead as another thought struck him - she had complained of being unwell at breakfast. The announcement of the outlaw's capture and imminent execution had not been made until mid-morning, with the execution itself taking place at noon. She couldn't have known earlier and therefore had no reason to fake an illness, which meant...

Guy broke into a run for the last part of the short distance to Marian's room. He stopped to collect his breath and knocked firmly on the door. "Marian?"

"Who is it?" Marian's voice sounded much less strong than it usually did and brought a sudden chill to his spine.

"It's me, Marian - Guy. I heard you were unwell and wanted to see if you had everything you require. May I enter?"

"Just a moment."

He waited patiently as he heard her moving about within the room and then heading towards the door. Her steps were far more hesitant than expected, and his worst fears were realised when she finally opened the door a crack and peered out at him. Her face was pale and her eyes - those beautiful eyes - were bright with fever.

"Marian..." He moved to push open the door but she held her ground.

"I'm sorry, Guy. I think it would be best if you didn't come in. I would not wish you to be exposed to anything I may pass on to you."

His heart seized with simultaneous fear for her health and joy at her seeming concern for his. "Is there anything I can do for you? You know you have but to name it..."

"No, Guy, thank you. I'm sure it will quickly pass and I will be quite recovered by the morning. I just need a good night's sleep."

"Your water is sufficient? Your bedding? Have you seen a physician?" he asked, fully aware of how pathetic he must sound but unable to stop himself.

"I do not wish to trouble a physician, Guy. I'm sure it's nothing serious - but thank you again. I really just need to rest." She turned sleepily away from him as she gently closed the door in his face.

Guy stood there quietly considering if there was anything he could do. Marian frequently made him feel unworthy, even inadequate, but complete powerlessness was a new and most unwelcome sensation.

He turned on his heel and headed back to his room. She was right - a good night's sleep would probably be all the cure she needed and would do him no harm either, especially since he had another active day ahead of him tomorrow.

She would be fine.

She _had _to be...

~o~o~O~o~o~

Marian woke from a light doze when she heard the gentle tapping on her door. "Who is it?" she called warily - she did not feel she had the energy for any more verbal sparring with Guy just now.

"It's Sarah, milady."

Marian relaxed. "Come in."

Her maid entered and placed a tray of food carefully down on the table. "I brought you some supper, milady."

"Thank you, Sarah. I'm afraid I'm still not really hungry." Marian struggled to sit up in the bed and Sarah hurriedly moved to help her, punching the bolsters into shape and placing them behind her as she lay back against them.

"You should try to eat a little, milady," Sarah said hesitantly.

Marian smiled weakly. "I appreciate your concern, Sarah, but I've done nothing but sleep all day and that hardly works up an appetite. You can take that bread back to Jess if you like."

"Thank you, milady." Sarah brought her over some water.

Marian took a few sips but her stomach complained even at that little amount and she held the cup back out to Sarah. "What was all the noise outside earlier?" she asked.

Sarah sighed. "The sheriff caught one of Robin's men in the castle this morning. He..." She choked back a small sob and put her hand to her mouth.

Marian's face grew even paler, and she sat up and clutched at Sarah's arm, making her almost drop the cup of water. "Tell me, Sarah - please..."

"He... he had him killed in the courtyard at noon. I'm sorry I didn't wake you, milady, but it were no sight fit for your eyes. He weren't hanged - Sir Guy cut his throat," she finished quietly.

Marian fell back heavily against the pillows as a sudden wave of nausea swept over her, both at the thought of the act itself and its perpetrator. It was mixed with overwhelming relief that it was not Robin himself who had been killed and a horrible sense of guilt that she should be pleased by another's death. She should take no comfort from any one's passing like that.

_One of Robin's men..._ so it was not Djaq either. "Which one was it, Sarah?" _Please don't let it be Much... or Will... or John - Lord, I don't want it to be any of them! Please let it be a mistake..._

"It were the big, older one, Milady - Little John."

Marian closed her eyes and let out a long breath as she felt hot tears run down her cheeks.

"He were the one who helped cure our Jess when she were poisoned," Sarah said quietly. "Too good a man for a death like that."

"Very few men deserve a death like that," Marian sighed.

_Except perhaps Vaizey himself_, she thought. How else to break his seemingly unshakeable hold over Guy? Every time she thought she was making progress - helping Guy see the man she knew he could become - Vaizey would order him to commit some new act of barbarity and Guy would go along with it, mistaking blind loyalty for honour.

She thought back to the last time she'd seen John. It had been the last time she'd left the outlaws' camp, heading for a tree to fetch down a pigeon. He'd handed Robin a coil of rope and Robin had told him they wouldn't be long. It felt like a lifetime ago.

She cast her mind a little further back to when she had first gone to the camp, remembering her sudden surprise as he had reached for her and pulled her into his huge arms with no warning. The initial awkwardness had vanished almost instantly, replaced by a feeling of warmth and safety as she felt those arms wrap gently around her, like a shield that would keep the whole world away until she wanted to let it back in.

When she had been of a size for her own father to hold her as completely as that, he had been distant, still grieving over her mother's death. Now she was grieving over his death and John, who seemed to say nothing but see everything, had recognised that and given her somewhere to hide - just for a moment - from Robin, from Guy, from all the pressures of her constant balancing act between castle and forest.

And now, he too was gone.

Marian opened her eyes again. "Did Robin not attempt to save him?" she asked.

"I don't think he had time, milady," Sarah replied. "It were a very quick death, if nothing else."

Robin would still have tried something. Marian knew him too well to think he had not at least initiated a plan for John's rescue even if he had been unsuccessful. That failure and Vaizey's inevitable taunting would not sit well with him. She could only hope it would not make him too reckless. "You said he was caught in the castle?"

"Yes, milady - that's what I heard."

Marian sighed again and fought down another swell of nausea. She could only think of one reason the outlaws would have risked coming to the castle. They would have been following Robin and he would have been trying to see her. "Take the food away please, Sarah. I may feel more like having something in the morning but I certainly don't now."

"Yes, milady..."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: ****Wenrom31 - **thank you so much for another lovely review! I know you're a sucker for W/D ;)

**jadey36** - Thank you! Glad you're enjoying it - hope this chapter lives up to expectations...

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**Disclaimer**: BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary**: The next day: Guy fetches a physician...

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**CHAPTER 4**

**~o~o~o~**

The heat of the summer afternoon made the room stiflingly hot. She cursed its lack of windows for the hundredth time as she wiped the sweat from her face and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

She was making one of her potions which required an ingredient to be ground into a fine powder. It was hot work but one of the few things that gave her any satisfaction these days, imagining the sheriff's face in the hollow bowl of the mortar as the pestle pounded into it. She looked up and frowned at the sound of the key rattling in the door.

Gisborne appeared and beckoned to her impatiently. "You're needed," he said curtly.

"What is it this time?" she sighed.

"Prisoner."

_That could mean anything from cuts, bruises and lashes to burns and broken bones - nothing like being kept busy... _she thought._ The jailer must've gotten carried away again._..

She wrapped her cloak around her face, grabbed a bag of supplies she'd learned to keep to hand for situations like this and followed him out into the corridor and towards the dungeons. Most of the servants barely gave her a second glance - she supposed they must've grown used to seeing the cloaked woman with Gisborne by now.

To her surprise they walked past the heavy wooden door that led down to the cells and continued down the hall, through a locked door in the far corner she'd never been through. Behind that door was a spiral stairway that led down to another long corridor.

"You can take your cloak off. You'll have no need to hide your face down here," Gisborne told her.

She gratefully unwound it from her head. The journey had been short but suffocating.

As they walked along, she saw at the far end, on the left hand wall, two doors made of thick metal bars opening into the passageway. As they drew near to and then passed the first room, she glanced into it and saw it was an empty cell. Looking to the very end of the corridor she could see another short set of steps down into a large clear area filled with various torture devices. A guard appeared from the lower area as he heard them approaching, and he and Gisborne both stopped as they met at the the second door.

The cell held a figure sprawled face down and unconscious on the filthy floor, his head turned away from her. The guard opened the cell door for her and she scowled and muttered curses under her breath against Vaizey, Gisborne and all their thankfully unlikely spawn down to the twelfth generation as she pushed past him and knelt by the prisoner's side.

He was barefoot with heavy iron manacles around his wrists and ankles. There were two long blistered burns across his side and his back was a gory mess of whip welts. The thin shirt he was wearing was now little better than bloodstained rags - they hadn't even bothered to remove it.  
_  
__Poor bugger..._ "What do you expect me to do here then? There's no point me fixing him up if you're just going to hang him in the morning."

"Keep him alive. He's not going to hang - he's going to talk," Gisborne instructed her with a sneer.

She reached into her bag and took out some clean rags and ointment. "I'll need more clean water."

Gisborne nodded to the guard who ran off up the steps. "I'll be back soon. Make sure he's awake." He turned and followed the guard at an almost leisurely pace.

She tore away the remnants of the prisoner's shirt and checked she'd got all the bits of material out of the wounds while waiting for the guard. Once he returned, she set to work cleaning and treating the injuries and applying different balms to the burns and cuts. She was nearly finished when she felt her patient stirring. "Lie easy. I'm nearly done."

He stilled and waited until she patted his shoulder and announced herself satisfied with her work.

"There you go. Not very pretty but you'll live and you shouldn't take an infection."

He turned and lifted his head and looked up at her with pain-darkened eyes. They widened in recognition as she sat back and her face was caught by the torchlight.

She laughed as the recognition became mutual. "I should have guessed it was you. Who else could it be?"

"Hello, Matilda," he said in surprise.

"Hello, John."

_John coughed and spluttered as the water hit his face, bringing him back from the haziness of the recent past. He realised his hands were shackled together above his head and he struggled to find his footing, pulling uselessly against the chains holding him upright. His neck was stiff and his muscles complained as he looked around the dank, windowless room and stared down at his blood-soaked shirt in confusion.__  
__  
__"Don't worry - it's not yours... although I'm sure we'll rectify that shortly." Vaizey appeared beside him, softly chuckling. "Hope you enjoyed your front row seat for the execution. Did you manage to spot your little friends? I imagine they were quite upset. It's amazing how much blood you can conceal inside that hood. Combine it with a pad full of Valerian over your mouth to knock you out and it's quite a convincing 'death'." He turned to the other person who had entered the room behind him. "Ah, Gisborne - can I assume from your boy's reaction that you've neglected to mention our new guest to him?"__  
__  
__"I thought the fewer people that know, the better, my Lord."__  
__  
__"Wise choice, Gisborne - you're learning. So, now Hood and his rabble have gone away to mourn their __tragic loss, we have all the time in the world to find out where... my... Pact... is." Vaizey punctuated his words with short jabs of his finger into John's chest.__  
__  
__John closed his eyes. He'd thought his days of being a dead man were over. It looked very much like they were back to stay..._

Matilda carefully inspected the bruises on John's face and he winced as she applied some more ointment to a cut just below his eye.

"I thought you and Rosa had moved safely away... Is she all right? And Alice?" he asked her.

"My daughter and grand-daughter are both fine," she reassured him. "But I had a patient in Locksley I was tending when all that nasty business with Henry of Where-ever happened and I couldn't bear to not check on her. Unfortunately for me, Gisborne's guards spotted me on one of my trips back into the village just after the child was born."

"But all that with Henry was nearly a year ago."

"Don't I know it. Baldy's had me locked up here for months tending to his toenails and any other physician's work he needs doing." She lightly slapped the side of John's head. "Like patching up big dumb outlaws stupid enough to get caught."

John smiled ruefully. "Djaq and I tried to escape through a store cupboard. There was a small window that she fit through - I wasn't so lucky."

"Never mind," Matilda said brightly. "I'm sure Robin's already busily planning some brilliant scheme to get you out of here. You can take me with you when he shows up!"

John hung his head and rested it against his forearms but it snapped back up again as he heard the jingle of Gisborne's spurs advancing down the corridor towards them. He looked apologetically at Matilda. "No, Matilda, I'm sorry. Nobody's coming for me."

"Back in the land of the living, eh?" Gisborne's voice was heavy with scorn. "Well, at least as far as _we _know," he chuckled. He motioned to the guard who had come back with him. "Bring him."

The guard roughly dragged John to his feet and Matilda could see him swaying unsteadily, weakened from the loss of blood. There was no sign of any food or water in his cell either.

She made to follow him out of the cell but Gisborne roughly shoved her back against the wall and she scowled furiously at him as the door clanged shut behind him. "You may as well stay here - he'll be back shortly."

"Whore-son! Devil spawn! I hope your manhood turns black, falls off and gets eaten by crows!"

Gisborne just smirked as he locked the door and turned to follow the guard shoving John down the stairs into the main area.

Matilda wasn't surprised by his reaction - or lack of it. None of her taunts ever seemed to get through to Gisborne - he must have spent years letting Vaizey's anger wash over him.

Time slowly passed. The warmth of the small cell made her sleepy, and with nothing else to do she started to doze off. A loud cry from outside woke her with a jolt.

She was rudely awakened that way several more times but gradually she stopped reacting to each new sound and eventually she fell asleep propped up against the wall of the small cell. The noise of the door grating open woke her.

The guard pushed John in and he fell to his knees on the floor, clutching his left arm and gasping with pain.

"Fix that." Gisborne pointed to the unnatural angle of John's shoulder. "When you're done, you can go back to your room."

Matilda scowled at him. "Robin will come for him, and I hope he chops you into tiny pieces when he does."

Gisborne laughed nastily. "Hood? He thinks his big friend here already met his maker yesterday. Why would he risk his neck to rescue a corpse?"

Matilda suddenly understood John's earlier apology. No wonder they hadn't been concerned about letting him know she was here. He was even more dead to the world than she was. She shuffled over to him and firmly took hold of his arm. "This is going to hurt, John."

He nodded and she could see his jaw clench in preparation.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" she asked Gisborne, who was watching with apparent interest.

"Not really," he shrugged.

She sighed and turned her attention back to the man under her hands. "Ready?"

John nodded again.

She pressed his shoulder firmly back into its socket.

John yelped and screwed his eyes shut. He started breathing rapidly through his mouth, trying to combat the pain.

"Is that it?" Gisborne asked.

"Why don't you let me demonstrate it on you if you're so interested?" Matilda smiled sweetly at him but her thoughts were full of malice.

Gisborne snorted in derision and started to leave.

"Here, John, take some of this - it'll help with the pain." She took a small vial from her bag and lifted it to his lips but Gisborne saw her actions and slapped her hand away.

"No potions!" Gisborne snarled. "I don't know what you might be giving him."

"Worried I'll poison him and spoil all your fun?" Matilda sneered.

"No - worried you'll addle his brain like you did Henry's and we'll get nothing from him."

"You'll get nothing from me anyway," John growled defiantly.

Gisborne responded by planting the sole of his boot into John's injured shoulder and kicking him backwards.

John shouted in pain as he fell to the floor, landing on the whip marks across his back.

"You really are an _animal_, Gisborne," Matilda spat.

For once, the simple insult, spoken with true feeling, was the one that hit home. Gisborne glowered and stalked off, calling to the guard to bring "the witch".

"See you tomorrow, Matilda." John made it sound like they'd arranged to have a meal together and she laughed, though she hoped with all her heart there would be no reason for them to meet again so soon.

"Good night, John." She shrugged off the arm of the guard as he attempted to pull her away and stomped haughtily off down the corridor...


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: ****Wenrom31 - **You only knew coz you're reading ahead! ;) (and you know me too well!) Thanks for another lovely review.

**CindyUSA **- thanks for reviewing! John is indeed alive but as long as nobody _knows _he's alive, he's still in a whole world of trouble...

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**Disclaimer**: BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary**: Guy goes to check on Marian and spends a sleepless night before returning to the dungeon in the morning...

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**CHAPTER 5**

**~o~o~o~**

Guy made sure Matilda was securely back in the room that doubled as her workshop and sleeping quarters, and then he reported to the sheriff. He let Vaizey know the outlaw had been brought round and sufficiently patched up for the interrogation to continue, but he was still refusing to divulge the location of Hood's camp or the Great Pact of Nottingham.

Vaizey then gave Guy several other, seemingly unnecessary, tasks to carry out before the day's end. Guy knew full well this was deliberate on Vaizey's part, even though Guy had carefully made no mention of wishing to call on Marian, but there was little he could do or say.

It was late in the evening before he finally found a free moment to make his way along to Marian's room. He stopped outside her door and nervously adjusted his jacket and hair before gently tapping on the thick wooden timbers.

"Marian? It's Guy... Are you feeling any better? May I come in?"

There was no answer.

He knocked a little louder. "Marian?"

Still nothing.

One of the serving maids was passing with a bundle of linens and he grabbed her arm as she scurried by him.

"You! Have you seen the Lady Marian today?"

"N-no, Sir Guy," she stammered. "Sarah took her some food in earlier but she was asleep so she just left it."

Guy frowned. Rest was good but Marian was unwell - perhaps it was not a natural sleep.

"Stay there!" he ordered. He banged with his fist on the door. "Marian? Marian - it's Guy... If you don't answer, I'm coming in..."

He waited but when there was still no response he grabbed the handle, thrust the door open and stormed inside, gesturing to the maid to follow him. The tray of food sat still untouched on the table.

"Marian?" He strode over to the bed.

Marian looked to be asleep but her face was very pale and her hair clung damply to her forehead.

Guy hesitated before gently taking hold of her shoulders. He shook her, firmly but not forcefully, and called her name. "Marian... Marian, please wake up."

She mumbled incoherently but her eyes did not open.

Guy stripped the glove from one of his hands with his teeth. He placed the back of his hand to her forehead. She was very hot and her skin was clammy.

"Fetch me some water... now!" Guy snapped.

The maid placed her armful of linens on the end of the bed and hurried over to the dresser. She returned with a beaker of water.

Guy took off his other glove as he carefully sat down on the bed beside Marian. He slipped his arm under her, lifting her up. He held his hand out for the cup and tipped it to her lips, pouring the water into her mouth in small amounts. "Marian?"

Marian mumbled again but still did not wake.

Guy laid her back down on the bed. "Was she like this this morning?" he asked the maid.

"No, sir - Sarah said she spoke to her at breakfast."

He stood up. "I want you to stay here - try and cool her down. I need to fetch a physician from the town."

"Yes, Sir Guy." She soaked a cloth in the water, wrung it out and started wiping Marian's forehead.

Guy took one last look at Marian's still, pale figure and dashed out of the room...

~o~o~O~o~o~

Late the next morning, Guy walked down into the main area of the lower dungeon, yawning and rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

"Gisborne! Where the hell have you been?" Vaizey barked.

"I'm sorry, my Lord. I didn't sleep very well," Guy replied.

He'd hardly slept at all if he was honest. The physician had told him there was nothing to be done but wait, and Guy had done so. He had paced around his room for what seemed like hours until he found himself wandering up to Marian's room in the middle of the night.

The maid sitting with her assured him she would send word to him immediately if there was any change in the lady's condition so he'd gone back to his room. He tried to sleep but each time he'd started drifting off, he'd jerked awake again imagining a knock at the door. At this time of year, the hours of darkness were few, and when dawn had started creeping across his room, he'd given up the thought of sleep entirely and gone to sit in worried wakefulness by Marian's door.

Allan had found him dozing there hours later when Guy had failed to show for breakfast in the Great Hall and his boy had been sent to fetch him.

"You look almost as bad as our friend here!" Vaizey gestured to the large figure kneeling on the floor in front of him.

The outlaw's hands had been placed behind his back and the chains between both his hands and his feet were secured to a ring in the floor behind him. A leather strap ran around his neck holding a length of metal with two prongs at each end, which rested against his breast bone and under his chin. Lowering his head would cause the prongs to dig painfully into his jaw and chest so he was forced to keep his head up.

"I'm sure he didn't sleep well either," Vaizey sneered. "That pretty necklace there makes sure he doesn't doze off. We want him wide awake when he tells us how to find that camp and my Pact."

"Go to hell," the outlaw growled. The room was very warm and, despite being clad only in his leggings, sweat was dripping from his hair and running down his chest and back.

"Hmm, you sound a little thirsty." Vaizey poured some water into a large goblet and held it out in front of the prisoner's lips.

Guy could see him start to strain forward to reach the water, digging the prongs into his chest and chin, but to the outlaw's credit, he quickly recognised it was merely there to taunt him so he leaned back.

"No, not thirsty after all? Oh, well." Vaizey tossed the goblet across the cell.

Guy's mind flashed back to the water he had given Marian and the feel of her in his arms. He realised with a start that Vaizey was now speaking to him and not the prisoner.

"Sorry, my Lord?"

"Where _is _your head today, Gisborne? I said get him up, hang him from his arms and we'll continue this later."

"Yes, my Lord." Guy undid the strap round the outlaw's neck and removed the short but effective piece of metal. He released both sets of manacles from the ring in the floor, and then gathered up a long rope which had been threaded through a ring in the ceiling. He tied one end of it around the short manacles between the outlaw's wrists then he and the guard pulled on the other end of the rope, lifting the outlaw up by his arms.

The man grunted in pain as his long legs gradually unfolded stiffly from beneath him and took his weight.

Guy and the guard continued hauling on the rope, raising the outlaw until he was standing on only the balls of his feet with his arms stretched up behind him. The position pulled his shoulder blades together, re-opening some of the wounds on his back. They tied the rope off securely as Vaizey strolled around the prisoner, admiring their work.

"Now isn't that better? _Much _more comfortable!" Vaizey smiled. "We're going to go get a bite to eat, maybe a glass of wine or two, perhaps take a little nap... We'll come back after you've had a chance to reconsider _telling me where my Pact is_!" He practically screamed the last few words into the outlaw's face.

The outlaw's entire body was shaking from the stress his position put it under, but he gave a small smile at Vaizey's frustration as the sheriff turned to leave.

Guy swiftly backhanded the prisoner across the face. "We'll see how much you're laughing after a few hours like this!" he snarled. It felt good to have someone to take out his anxieties on so he slapped him again for good measure then turned to the guard. "Make sure he doesn't sleep."

"Yes, Sir Guy."

The guard snapped to attention, and Guy noted the evil smile that crossed the guard's face as he looked at the outlaw. The four guards that had helped bring the outlaw here were now alternating day and night shifts in the hidden dungeon. They had been chosen primarily for their loyalty but also for the enthusiasm they had shown for their work which had gained them favour in Vaizey's eyes. Guy appreciated both qualities, even if the second was somewhat repugnant, but he still didn't trust any of them as far as he could spit them. He grabbed the front of the guard's hauberk in his fist. "If the sheriff and myself aren't able to question him later, you'll be taking his place. Got that?"

"Yes, Sir Guy." The guard's smile vanished.

Guy walked quickly up the corridor and caught up with the sheriff just as he left the dungeon. "My Lord, I wonder if I might--"

"Yes, yes...Go check on your leper, Gisborne. You think I don't know what's distracting you?"

"I'm merely concerned--"

"For what, Gisborne - that she may infect the whole castle with her pestilence? Or that she'll turn up her toes before you wear her down into agreeing to marry you?"

"The safety of the castle and yourself is, of course, my top priority, my Lord," Guy lied smoothly. He could tell Vaizey didn't believe a word of it.

"Huh," Vaizey grunted. "With any luck she's dead already and you can get your head back to more important matters - like getting hold of that Pact before Hood finds some way to get a message to King Richard that sees us both hang!" He glared at Guy then rolled his eyes. "Oh, go check on her, take her some grapes, anything - just make sure you're not late after dinner when we visit our guest again."

"Yes, my Lord."

Guy locked the dungeon door behind them and turned towards Marian's chambers. He could almost feel Vaizey's eyes on him as he walked slowly away. Only when he was sure he was out of the sheriff's sight did he break into a run...

~o~o~O~o~o~

John found a spot on the floor he could stare at as he tried to distance himself from the excruciating pain in his arms and shoulders. It was a spot where two of the flagstones met and there was a small crack running diagonally across the corner of one of the slabs. He heard the guard come strolling back up the corridor after Gisborne and the sheriff had left.

"Well, well, well... 'ood's big man," the guard said smugly.

The crack had something green in it - some kind of moss or mould.

"You broke my arm last year, you bastard."

Not surprising really, given how damp and warm it was down here.

"I was on 'alf duties - and 'alf pay - for _two months_."

The sudden kick to his legs caught John by surprise - he'd been expecting a punch. The guard's boot hit him in the side of his knee, knocking both feet from under him and dropping his whole weight onto his already strained shoulders. He gasped with pain and scrambled to regain his footing.

"Sir Guy says I'm not to kill you - more's the pity - but I can do plenty 'e'll never even know about."

This time the expected punch landed - but up into his stomach, not to his head.

"I'm goin' to enjoy this."

_That makes one of us_, thought John...


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**: **marylinevelyn **and **Katja Nilsen** - thank you _so _much for the reviews. It''s really encouraging to get them.

**

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Disclaimer**: BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary**: Guy asks Matilda to help cure Marian. She agrees - but asks for something in return...

**Warning**: **Implied M/M Sexual Assault**

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**CHAPTER 6**

**~o~o~o~**

Matilda put the finishing touches to the sealing wax around the last bottle of potion she was preparing that day and sat down with a satisfied sigh. She was starting to think about dinner when the door suddenly burst open.

Guy of Gisborne appeared, looking very flushed in the face, as if he'd been running.

"Don't you have any manners at all, Gisborne?" she scowled. "I could have been standing here in nothing but my under-wrappings for all you knew!"

Gisborne's nose wrinkled in disgust at her comment as he crossed the room towards her.

Matilda wasn't sure whether she should be pleased or annoyed by that reaction.

"You have to come with me," he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the door.

She wrenched her arm away and reached for her bag. "What bit of him have you broken now?"

"What?" Guy stopped, momentarily confused and then shook his head. "No, it's not the outlaw. It's Lady Marian."

"Lady Marian?" _Dear God - what's he done to her?_ Matilda's heart leaped into her mouth.

She still felt she owed Marian for alerting Robin to the ducking in Locksley. She'd only glimpsed her once or twice in the months she'd been at the castle, and always from a distance. Knowing how involved Marian was with Robin made Matilda concerned for the young woman's safety and that worry was renewed every time she saw her. It didn't help that Marian was about the same age as Rosa and brought out every maternal instinct Matilda had in her, in the absence of her own daughter.

"She has a fever and will not wake," Gisborne responded. "I sent for a physician but the man is useless! He keeps telling me we just have to wait but any fool can see she's getting worse!"

Matilda was relieved to hear it was an illness but concerned at the same time - fever and loss of wits was a bad combination. She would have grabbed her things straight away but she noted the desperation in Gisborne's eyes. It had been clear in his voice too. _He's really worried for her... Interesting... I bet Baldy doesn't even know he's here..._

She paused with her hand on her bag, inwardly berating herself for being so mercenary, but knowing this was one of only a few chances she might ever have. "If I _can_ help the Lady Marian - what do I get in return?" she asked.

"What?"

"Will you let me go?"

Gisborne considered it for longer than she'd thought he would, but the answer was still the one she'd expected.

"No, I can't do that." He pulled her towards the door again. "Please - she's very ill."

_'Please', is it? _Matilda would swear on the Good Book she'd never heard Gisborne use that word before._ What else might he go for?_ "Let me see John again," she said.

"John?" Gisborne said blankly.

Matilda sighed heavily. "Big bloke? Beard? You dislocated his shoulder?"

"The outlaw?" Gisborne considered the request. "Fine. I'll take you to him - once you've seen Marian."

Matilda would have laughed out loud had she received such a promise from Vaizey. She would at least give Gisborne the benefit of the doubt._ I'll not hold my breath... but we'll see._ "Agreed. Well what are you waiting for? Christmas?" She put a spare jar of feverfew into her bag and threw her cloak around her head and shoulders as Gisborne practically lifted her out of the door. She almost had to break into a run to keep up with his long, swift stride as they moved quickly through the castle to Marian's room.

Gisborne told Marian's maid to wait outside then paced nervously back and forth as Matilda looked at Marian's skin and eyes and listened to her heartbeat. "Well?" he burst out impatiently.

"Well, you were right - she is very ill," Matilda replied calmly.

"But you can cure her?"

"I'm certainly going to try." She pulled the jar of feverfew out of her bag, then turned and fixed Gisborne with her most piercing stare.

He stopped pacing.

"This is an important question," Matilda said sternly. "Answer honestly - and don't get angry with me for asking," she added.

"What is it?"

Matilda pursed her lips and took a deep breath. "Is there any chance at all Lady Marian could be with child?"

Gisborne flared into instant indignation. "How _dare _you--?!"

"I dare because if she is then this could kill both her and the child!" she interrupted. "So get off your high horse and answer me!"

Gisborne scowled at her but his breathing slowed again. "No. I'd stake my life on it."

"You're not staking yours - you're staking hers," she reminded him.

"No. Lady Marian is still a maid," he said, almost grudgingly.

"Good." Matilda opened the bottle and added a few drops to a cup of water. _And here's hoping you and young Master Locksley have behaved yourselves as well as I think you have!_ She tipped the cup to Marian's lips, encouraging her to drink in small mouthfuls. She frowned as she looked down into the cup. "Could you fetch some fresh water? This is quite warm."

Gisborne nodded and hurried out into the corridor, presumably to find the maid.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Matilda laid Marian down and gently shook her shoulders. "Marian... Marian, it's Matilda - from Locksley. I know you can hear me. This is _very _important and you have to remember it. Little John isn't dead. You hear me? John is _not _dead - he's here in the castle - and you have to tell Robin if you see him."

Marian mumbled, "John i'n't dead..."

"That's right, my girl - you remember that!" Matilda whispered, triumphantly. "Oh - and tell him I'm here too if you would!"

"J'hn... n't...."

"Yes, yes, you rest now." Matilda stroked her forehead as Marian slipped into a deep sleep.

Gisborne reappeared at the door shortly afterwards with a pitcher of water.

From the state of him, Matilda suspected he'd run down to the well himself. Just for a fleeting moment she caught herself feeling almost sorry for him. He was clearly devoted to Marian and must have no idea of her relationship with Robin.

"Come in and for God's sake, sit down before you wear a hole in the floor!" She poured him a cup of the cool water.

"How is she?" he asked.

"She's sleeping. The feverfew should help make her cooler. Once her fever breaks, she should recover well - she's young and healthy."

"What if it doesn't break?"

She turned to face him but the look on his face was so raw she quickly turned back to her patient. "I don't see any reason for that to happen, but if she's still feverish in the morning I have other things to try. For now I'll carry on bathing her to keep her cool."

"I'll get the maid to do that." He stood up sharply.

"I'd rather do it myself," Matilda protested.

"I know - but you shouldn't be here and if Marian wakes she mustn't see you," Gisborne responded, confirming Matilda's earlier suspicions that this was one little task of hers that Vaizey knew nothing about.

"Very well." Matilda handed Gisborne a small vial then packed up the rest of her things. "She should be given some more of this mixture about an hour after dinner - though don't feed her anything, just give her water - and if her fever hasn't broken by the morning you'll need to let me see her again."

"I will."

"Now," Matilda stood up and headed for the door. "I have another patient to check up on, yes?"

"What? Oh...yes...the outlaw..." Gisborne glanced from Matilda to the bed and back again. He sighed. "Fine. You should probably see him anyway."

"That's right - you want him nice and healthy when you torture him," Matilda muttered. She pulled the cloak she was required to wear outside her room back over her face and followed him out into the corridor.

Gisborne passed on instructions and the vial to Marian's maid as they let her back into the room. He and Matilda then headed towards the lower levels of the castle at a far slower pace than they had taken towards Marian's room...

~o~o~O~o~o~

The guard wiped his knuckles on his sleeves and spat on the floor. He drew the back of his hand across his mouth, breathing heavily. Once he'd started, forcing himself to stop again had taken a real effort, but he'd administered enough beatings over the years to judge when he was risking serious damage. Sir Guy had made it very clear how far he could go. Not as far as he wanted to, that was for sure, but the outlaw had to be kept not only alive, but able to answer questions, so the guard had reined himself back in before he got too carried away.

"Still awake?" He kicked the outlaw's shin and got a grunt in reply. "Not so tough now, eh?"

He slumped down in the chair beside the table and poured himself a cup of water. Some of it sloshed on to floor as he mockingly toasted the outlaw.

"I'll say this for you, you know 'ow to take a beatin'. Not that you've got much choice in _that _position!" He laughed mirthlessly then drained his cup, making sure to drink noisily and with great relish, just to rub it in.

He glanced back up the corridor then turned back to his captive audience. Sir Guy had said he would return after dinner - that was still hours away. He put down his cup and wiped his mouth again, then stood up and slowly walked around behind the semi-conscious man in front of him. "That position" also suggested something else he could do that he would certainly enjoy and Sir Guy need never know about.

_Yeah... why not? The bastard 'as it comin'..._

The guard idly stroked himself through his leggings and felt himself rapidly getting hard at being in such a position of power over the other man. He stepped forward and pressed his growing hardness directly against the outlaw's backside, putting his hands on the other man's hips and pulling him backwards with only the slightest pressure. He was rewarded by a renewed tenseness in the outlaw's muscles. The sound of the prisoner's breathing also sped up noticeably in alarm and the guard grinned, knowing his intentions had been correctly guessed. This was going to be the sweetest payback he could have hoped for.

He leaned over and as his hands reached round and started searching for the laces of the outlaw's leggings, he said softly, "Let's see what else you can take, big man..."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**: thanks to **CindyUSA **and **jadey36 **for the reviews. You guys really encourage me to keep writing...

**

* * *

Disclaimer**: BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary**: Matilda and Guy return to the dungeon to make an unpleasant discovery...

* * *

**CHAPTER 7**

**~o~o~o~**

Gisborne locked the door into the hidden dungeon behind them and Matilda cast her hood back from her face with a grateful sigh. It was far too hot to be wearing it. She followed Gisborne down the long corridor, peering round him curiously as she heard muffled scraping sounds and sudden activity from up ahead.

The guard appeared at the top of the stairs. He was flushed in the face and out of breath. "Sir Guy! I wasn't expecting you back till after dinner!" he said guiltily.

Gisborne scowled as he threw one long arm across the guard's chest and pushed him aside. He stalked down the stairs into the main area, and Matilda hurried after him, suddenly fearful.

She stopped and took a deep breath as she reached the bottom of the stairs and saw the figure hanging from the ceiling. "Mother of God..."

Gisborne grabbed the guard and cuffed him around the head, making his helmet fly off across the room. "What did I tell you?" he snarled.

"Y-you said not to let 'im sleep and not to kill 'im..."

"I didn't say you should beat him practically unconscious!" Gisborne released his hold on the man's tunic, pushing him backwards into a rack of blades and batons. The guard stumbled and fell to the floor in a loud clatter of armour and weaponry.

Matilda was somewhat surprised by the strength of Gisborne's fury until he followed up with, "I was supposed to be doing that later!" She realised his anger was more that of a child, annoyed that his toy had been taken away. It was in stark contrast to the Gisborne she had just witnessed sitting in despair by Marian's bed. He seemed like a different person entirely once they had left Marian's room and re-entered the harsh world of Vaizey's castle.

Matilda knelt on the floor by John's head and lifted his face up into the light.

He opened his eyes - or tried to, one was swollen half-shut - and gave her a sheepish smile. "Told you...I'd see you today," he said weakly.

"You're not seeing much of anything out of that eye, my lad. Not for a day or two anyway." Her attention switched to the bruises around his body. "Let's take a look at the rest of you, eh?" She shuffled forward and started gently pressing at his sides, testing for broken bones.

John winced when she touched the deeper bruises but thankfully his ribs all appeared intact, and there were no signs he was bleeding into his body. One of the burn blisters had burst open but the other was still miraculously sealed.

As she was looking at his stomach, some movement caught the corner of her eye - the ties of his leggings were hanging loose and the trembling in John's legs was making them shake slightly. She also noticed three long parallel scratches down his hip into his waistband, as might be made by sharp fingernails. Her breath caught and she leaned back and looked into his face in horror. "John..."

He frowned when he saw her expression. "What is it? Something bad?"

"You tell me - why're your leggings undone?"

His gaze dropped to the floor. "'S nothing," he mumbled.

"John..." she said reprovingly.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Gisborne stood beside her. She said nothing but gestured with a small nod of her head and roll of her eyes to the laces hanging down and the open gap at the top of John's leggings.

Gisborne leaned over to look where she'd directed.

Matilda held her breath, not sure whether he would react with apathy or anger.

It took Gisborne a second to spot what she'd wanted to bring to his attention but when he did, his eyes blazed and his face hardened - and Matilda had her answer.

The guard had gotten back to his feet. Gisborne turned to him with the animal grace and slowness of a predator approaching his prey. "Why are his leggings undone?" he softly asked.

The guard's face went white. "'E... er... 'e said 'e needed a piss, Sir Guy... so, y'know... I thought..."

"We've given him hardly any water for two days! He couldn't even _spit _let alone take a piss!" Gisborne roared. He punched the guard hard in the face.

The guard fell back to the floor clutching his nose. He scrambled desperately backwards up the stairs as Gisborne advanced on him. "No, Sir Guy! I didn't touch 'im, I swear!"

"Only because I came back early, you piece of filth!" Gisborne sprang up the steps and kicked the guard in the head.

The guard whimpered and rolled away, then tried to crawl up the corridor.

Matilda turned her attention back to John and tried to ignore the sounds from the the top of the stairs. "John? John, did he do anything? Before we came in? If you don't tell me or I think you're lying, I'm going to take a look anyway, so you may as well tell me the truth."

John's head lifted and he frowned at her.

"Tell me...please. I swear not another soul will hear of it," she said, soothingly. "I just need to know if you're injured."

John's glare softened and he shook his head. "No, he'd only just unlaced me when you came in."

Matilda held his gaze for moment then nodded and patted his cheek.

John closed his eyes and let his head drop again.

The cries from the corridor faded to low moans. Matilda softly stroked John's hair. "It's alright, John. I don't think you'll have to worry about him doing anything like that again." She cupped his face in both her hands and lifted it up again. "Gisborne may be a vicious bastard but even he has _some _sense of decency."

"Could you...?" John's eyes flicked downwards.

"Of course." She reached under him and drew the laces tight again before tying them off.

"Thanks."

They both looked to the top of the stairs as Gisborne walked calmly down them, back into the main area. His gloves and forearms were spattered with blood, as were his boots. He wiped a smear of blood from his cheek as his eyes met and locked with John's. He nodded once, a gesture which John returned, then walked over to a small table and started washing his face.

Matilda poured a cup of water and looked questioningly at Gisborne. He hesitated then nodded again. She took it over to John and helped him drink it. It was a tricky process given the angle of his head but fortunately it meant he couldn't rush it and had to take it in the small sips which would be most beneficial. She brought some more water over in a bowl and started wiping his face. "Can't you let him down - just for a moment?" she asked.

"No. He stays there until he tells us how to find Hood's camp."

"Not going to happen, Gisborne," John growled.

"Everybody breaks sooner or later," Gisborne scoffed. "Wait till we hoist you up a bit higher and tie some weights to your ankles - that might change your tune... Are you satisfied?" This last was directed at Matilda.

She stood up and came back over towards him. "I'm satisfied you're going to dislocate both his shoulders and stop him feeling anything in his arms if you keep him like this much longer!" she snapped. "And you have to give him more water. He'll survive on very little, but none at all will kill him in a few days."

"Anything else? Want me to read him a bedtime story?" Gisborne said sarcastically.

"Tell him the one about the evil sheriff and his wicked henchman who both got their heads chopped off when the king came back," she replied.

Gisborne almost casually swung the back of his hand across her face and she staggered backwards a few steps, her head ringing from the blow.

John growled but he could do nothing to help her.

"You keep a civil tongue, witch!" Gisborne snapped. "There's another cell down here, remember?"

"And you remember Lady Marian is still lying upstairs with a fever and you need me!" Matilda hissed back.

Gisborne's face instantly lost its scowl and he frowned instead. "Sorry," he muttered.

_You poor bastard... You've really got it bad, haven't you?_ she thought. She pressed her advantage while Gisborne was still thinking of Marian and not Vaizey. "I need to put some ointment on that burn. It's much more likely to get infected than his back."

Gisborne nodded. "Get on with it then."

Matilda washed John's side and applied some ointment to both burns. She wished she had a small piece of food to give him but even if she had there was no opportunity to do so. Gisborne watched her every move. Once she'd finished she got up and packed her things away.

"Come on," Gisborne said, taking her arm. "I need to get you back upstairs before dinner." He turned to John. "I'll send a new guard in. The sheriff and I will be back after dinner. You better have changed your mind by then or, I promise, you'll think everything we've done so far was a kindness."

As they reached the foot of the stairs, Matilda dashed back to John and kissed his cheek. "Good night, John." Below Gisborne's hearing she whispered, "Marian knows you're here. Stay strong."

John's face remained impassive but as Gisborne headed away, Matilda turned to look at John one last time. He winked to let her know he'd heard, and she smiled.

Her smile vanished as she saw the steady trickle of blood down the stairs from the body lying further up the corridor. She bent down to check it but Gisborne turned back, grabbed her under the arm and hauled her away.

"Don't bother - he's dead."

She quickly pulled her hood back up as he unlocked the door, clutching the material across her mouth to hide her face but also to try to quell the sudden nausea...

~o~o~O~o~o~

John let his head drop again as Matilda and Gisborne left. He faintly heard Gisborne pulling Matilda away from the guard's corpse and informing her of his fate.

_Good riddance..._

Sleep finally, blissfully took him but it felt like only a heartbeat later he was being slapped awake again.

"Wakey wakey, sunshine. If I don't get to sleep neither do you."

The guard from the night shift was there and, John assumed, was less than happy at being called in early.

The guard put the torch he was carrying into the sconce on the wall. He picked up the rack of tools Gisborne had thrown the previous guard into and rearranged them. Once he'd done that, he picked up a bucket of water and sluiced down the steps, making them shine in the torchlight.  
_  
__Of all the people to owe a favour to..._ John thought, then he snorted. No - he didn't owe Gisborne a thing. Not that John wasn't grateful Gisborne had shown up when he did - and thank God some of the worst rumours about him proved to be unfounded. If Gisborne had shown up on his own, John wouldn't have been at all surprised if he'd joined in, given some of the tales he'd heard.  
_  
__'Spose that means the stories aren't true about him and Allan either... Pity... I'd like to think the traitorous little bastard was having to work harder for his money... Surprised I haven't seen him down here helping... Bet he'd love to get a few punches in - pay me back for that one I gave him_...

John winced as the guard grabbed his hair and lifted his head up into the light.

The guard gave a long low whistle. "Eldric did a proper number on you, didn't 'e? No wonder Gizzy got so peeved." He released his grip and strolled over to the table before sitting down.

John went back to staring at the floor and trying to take his mind elsewhere.  
_  
__"Marian knows you're here. Stay strong..."__  
__  
__Marian knows... But Matilda said she has a fever and even if she wasn't sick, what can she do? She's a brave woman and a handy fighter but she's still just one person...__  
__  
__She can tell Robin...Once he knows you're alive, he'll come get you...__  
__  
__Like he came for Djaq?__  
__  
__That was different... Robin had his reasons...They were stupid reasons but they were reasons...__  
__  
__Will and Allan came to get Djaq because they loved her... You came because you owed her and because she's a woman... None of them love you or owe you...__  
__  
__No. Robin'll come... He has to...__  
__  
__He won't risk it - not for you... If he can get Marian safely out of the castle he's got no need to come back... He's already got the Pact... He won't risk getting caught once she's safe...__  
__  
__He came for the Festival of Pain...__  
__  
__He came for Luke... and the tax money... You had to get yourself free...__  
__  
__Will and Djaq have each other now... Much and Marian have Robin and he has them... And Luke has Alice... and John...__  
__  
__Who has you? Who cares?__  
__  
__"Marian knows you're here..."__  
__  
__Matilda...__  
__  
__"Stay strong..."__  
__  
__That, I can do...__  
__  
__Just... not for too much longer...__  
__  
__Please?_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N**: **Katja Nilsen**, **Emmithar, ****CindyUSA** and **Wenrom31**- thank you so much for the encouraging reviews. (And feel free to comment wherever and however often you like ;) ) John's toughness was one of the reasons he initially drew the short straw for this fic - that and he's the odd one out with his lack of a close relationship (Robin and Much have each other, Will and Djaq likewise)

**

* * *

Disclaimer**: BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary**: Allan accompanies Sarah to market; Robin sneaks into the castle to visit Marian...

* * *

**CHAPTER 8**

**~o~o~o~**

"Allan!"

Allan jerked awake as he heard Guy yelling for him. He hastily scrambled off the pile of grain sacks he'd been napping on and staggered towards the door, fastening his collar. _Bloody typical! The man near vanishes for two days but when _I_ want to have a quick kip, up 'e pops..._ "Yes, Guy?" he called.

"What the hell are you up to?" came the demand from outside.  
_  
__I could ask the same thing, mate!_ Allan knew Marian was sick and Guy had been seen visiting her a few times but that didn't explain where he'd been the rest of the time. "I was... 'elping count some stores - make sure nuffin's been nicked, y'know?" Allan stepped out of the darkened storeroom into the early evening sunshine. He felt himself recoil in surprise as he took a proper look at Guy. "'Ere - are you all right, Gis?"

Guy looked absolutely shattered - even worse than he had done first thing this morning when Allan had been sent to find him. His eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles underneath them. Allan's eyes were drawn to a small smudge of blood - _Guy's? Someone else's?_ - near Guy's ear which looked like it had been missed in a hurried attempt to clean his face.

"I'm fine," Guy snapped back. "But Marian is still unwell and Ma...my physician has given me a list of things she may need. I've passed it on to her maid. I want you to escort her to the market and make sure she gets everything - and quickly, no hanging about. That goes for you too!"

Allan sighed. Where was the fun in going to market if you couldn't chat up a few of the prettier stall holders? All those buxom farm lasses who only came to town once a week... "Yeah, all right."

"It wasn't a request, Allan," Guy growled. "Get a move on! It's late and they'll start packing up soon."

Allan looked at Guy again and frowned. "Just 'ow 'unwell' is she then?"

Guy's face paled even further which was all the answer Allan really needed. "Just... be quick," Guy said as he turned and stalked off back into the castle.

Moments later Sarah appeared, hurrying towards Allan and muttering to herself.

Allan thought some more about Guy's mysterious absences while she approached. _Must be sumfin' pretty 'ush-'ush if 'e's not letting me in on it... An' important enough to keep him from Marian when I know that's where 'e really wants to be... 'Spose I'll just have to find out for meself..._

Sarah stopped beside him.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded and they headed off through the portcullis and out into the market.

Sarah had memorised a list of what they needed and kept reciting it as they moved between stalls. She was more focussed on remembering the list than actually making purchases, so Allan ended up doing most of the bartering, which was fine by him. They collected most things fairly quickly but started having to scour the further reaches of the market for harder to obtain items. As they got closer to the edge of the market, Allan realised they were being watched.

He picked up an apple and tossed it in the air. It seemed to slip from his grasp and tumble to the ground as it came down again. As he bent down to pick it up, he glanced over to a dark alleyway the sun never reached. Sure enough, there were two slightly darker shadows within it, both roughly the same height.

_Robin and Much or I'm an Irishman..._ It was quite handy really - he could always easily tell which of his former comrades were about just from their shapes. Two the same was Much and Robin; one short, one tall and skinny was Will and Djaq, one short, one medium was Djaq and Much; one medium, one tall and broad was Much and John...

Allan paused as he remembered that was one shape he wouldn't have to look out for any more.

"I think that's everything," Sarah said. She kept looking around and Allan could swear she hesitated as her eyes swept over the same alley he'd just peered into.

"Right - we better 'ead back then," Allan said cheerfully.

"Yes..." Sarah said hesitantly. "Isn't there anything you want?"

"Nope - and Gis said we shouldn't 'ang about."

Sarah turned and looked reluctantly directly at the alley.

Allan leaned in closer to her and whispered. "'E should know she's not well..."

"Who? What? Who should know?" Sarah replied, very flustered.

Allan grinned. "Come on, Sarah - it's me, innit? I'm going to talk to..." He looked swiftly around and picked a likely looking candidate. "_That _young lady there for the next couple o' minutes. If you're still on this spot when I come back, I won't know which alley you might 'ave ducked into in the meantime, will I?" He winked and set off towards his target. When he casually turned and looked about, as if taking in the whole market again, Sarah had already vanished and there were now three shadows in the alley...

~o~o~O~o~o~

Much paced nervously up and down the small alley, glancing from Robin to the castle gates and back again as he walked. Robin could tell he was beside himself with worry. "Master, you _can't_ go in there - not after what happened to John. _Please_!"

Robin went back to staring at the thick wooden gates and impenetrable walls as if he could somehow see through them if he tried hard enough. "I have to, Much. Sarah says Marian is seriously ill. I have to see her."

"Master, you're not a physician - what can you possibly do? You'll only end up getting caught - or.... or... catching whatever it is Marian has. And you saw how easily Sarah got away from Allan - I'm sure he's up to something! What if it's another trap?" Much gripped the edge of his cloak in his hands and wrung it in desperation.

Robin couldn't blame Much for his nerves. They were pretty high strung at the best of times but since John's death they had been even more on edge. Even though he had hardly ever spoken, John's calming presence was already sorely missed at the camp.

"Much." Robin stilled him by placing his hand on his arm. "I have to see her for myself. I know there may not be much I can do, but I can be there for her, let her know I'm by her side. You can understand that, can't you?"

Much sagged instantly in defeat. "Yes," he grudgingly admitted. They both knew if it were Robin in there, neither hell nor high water would prevent Much attempting to see him. "Should you not go back to the camp and fetch Djaq? She may be able to help Marian," Much suggested.

Robin considered that briefly. "No, I don't want Djaq to have to come back into Nottingham so soon."

It wasn't just Much who had been affected - the whole gang had been hit hard and Djaq most of all. They had tried over and over to reassure her that she was not to blame for John's death. All of them had told her that John would never have blamed her himself but a small part of the spark in her eyes had vanished. It would come back eventually - or so Robin continued to tell himself.

In the meantime he had effectively lost not one member of the gang, but three. John was gone; Djaq was still distracted by her guilt and Will would not consider being away from her for even a minute. From the eight men he had started with he was right back down to himself and Much.

And now, on top of everything else, came the news of Marian's illness. It was almost too much to bear. He loved all the gang, Much especially, and losing John was hard but losing Marian... Robin could not even start to contemplate what that may do to him. Marian was what he truly fought for; not England, not King Richard, not justice or the common people but Marian - to make her proud of him and to create a world where she could be his, he could be hers and they could be safe and happy and grow old together in peace.

"I'm sure Djaq would be fine, Master. It might even help--"

"No. I don't doubt Djaq's abilities, Much - you know that - but if anything _should _happen so soon after..." Robin pursed his lips and left the sentence unfinished. "I'm going to try the east wall. It should be quieter at this time of day. Keep a look out for me."

Much sighed. "You know I will. _Please _be careful, Master... and Master?"

"Yes, Much?"

"If you do see Lady Marian, please let her know I wish her good health as well."

Robin smiled. "Thank you, Much. I will." He patted his friend on the shoulder and they ran down the alley to circle round to the east wall...

~o~o~O~o~o~

Robin flattened himself against the wall as the familiar strains of Vaizey's voice floated out of the window he'd been about to move across. The light was fading and this side of the castle was now in deep shadow but he was still horribly exposed. If any of the guards below happened to look up the chances were still good that they would spot him against the sky.

"...you'll need to devote a little more time to our guest, Gisborne!"

"Yes, my Lord."

_A guest..._ Robin wasn't aware of anyone having arrived recently. Maybe they meant someone who would be coming soon. He would need to watch the roads more carefully.

"Prince John expects that Pact to be safely under lock and key in this castle," Vaizey continued. "If he shows up and asks to see his little insurance policy, we won't have to wait for Richard to get back to find ourselves on the chopping block!"

Robin grinned into the stone wall. Hearing the anxiety in Vaizey's voice provided a very welcome, if small, lift to his spirits. He waited until the footsteps faded then swung across the window and carried on along the ledge until he could climb up onto the next level and reach Marian's room...

~o~o~O~o~o~

Sarah took Robin's bow as he scrambled through the window. "I'll go ask the guards to fetch some more water but I can't be gone too long. I'm sorry," she told him.

"That's all right, Sarah. Thank you for letting me have even just a few minutes."

She took the heavy pitcher from the dresser and quietly left the room.

Robin hesitantly approached the bed. He had faced a thousand Saracens without fear and yet now his stomach felt like there was a cold stone in it.

At first glance she could have been sleeping, but as he drew closer he saw the flush of fever on her face. He sat beside her on the bed and carefully took her hand in his.

"Marian... Marian...?"

"R'bin?" Her eyes fluttered but didn't open.

He gently squeezed her hand, willing her to stay awake and terrified by how weak her voice had sounded. "Yes, my love, I'm here."

"R'bin..." Marian frowned. "S'mething...s'mething t' tell you..." she said faintly.

Robin smiled. Even weakened by illness as she was, she was still trying to help him. How could he not love such a woman? He lightly brushed away the hair clinging to her face with his fingers. She was so warm! "Hush, Marian. Whatever it is can wait until you are better."

"No... 's important...'s about...'bout John," she mumbled.

_The guest!_ "Prince John? Is _he _coming here?" Robin heart leapt in sudden excitement but then he cursed himself for a fool. Who cared what Prince John was up to? King Richard himself could be coming home and it wouldn't matter if he lost Marian.

"No... J'hn..." Her voice was growing fainter as she fought not to fall asleep again.

"Calm yourself, Marian. Rest. Tell me when you are well again. I need you to concentrate on getting better and nothing else, _please_." He leaned over and gently kissed her forehead. Her skin was so clammy - it made his stomach tighten in dread and a rage grew in his heart that he was powerless to do anything to help her.

Marian stilled and her breathing relaxed into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Robin sat there, stroking her hand and watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest until the rattle of the door handle shook him from his reverie. He quickly dropped to the floor and slid under the bed.

Sarah slowly opened the door, put the water pitcher down and then closed the door behind her. "Are you still here?" she hissed.

He scrambled out from under the bed and got to his feet. "Yes. Sorry, Sarah - I know I should leave but..." He looked forlornly down at Marian.

Sarah patted his arm. "I understand." She started to speak further but then closed her mouth again.

"What?" Robin asked her.

"I... You..."

"What?" He grabbed her arms and almost shook her in his desperation. He released them immediately when he saw the look of shock on her face. "I'm sorry."

"I just... I just thought you should know that Sir Guy has made sure there's always someone here to tend to her... and he's called in several physicians. She's being well looked after."

Robin instantly understood Sarah's hesitation. This time it was not Gisborne's dagger that caused her to lie so pale and still, but a foe no sword or arrow could defeat and one from which neither he nor Gisborne could have protected her. He felt a swell of jealous anger that there was nothing he could fault Gisborne for in his care of Marian - no hint that his devotion was any less than Robin's. He wanted to have something to point at and say "See? His love for you is not as strong as mine!" but Gisborne had done all the things that Robin would have done himself and what was worse, he had the opportunity and means to provide them where Robin did not.  
_  
__Marian is being cared for - that's what's important. It doesn't matter who by..._ Robin knew it was a lie even as he thought it.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Thank you, Sarah. I know you know it's hard for me to hear that - but it's good to know none the less."

Sarah looked fearfully at the door. "You really should go..."

Robin kissed Marian's forehead one last time. "Be well, my love. Much wishes you good health also." He picked up his bow and crossed to the window. Just before he climbed out, he turned back to Sarah. "You haven't heard anything about Prince John visiting, have you?"

Sarah shook her head. "Not a word. Why?"

Robin sighed. "It doesn't matter. Marian said... She's still feverish - it doesn't matter." He hung his head in resignation.

Sarah walked over and put her hand on his shoulder. "I'll try and get word to you if there's any change."

"Thank you, Sarah. I know you're risking a lot for us." He smiled sadly at her then checked the courtyard below and swung out onto the ledge.

Sarah replaced the shutter behind him and went back to her duties...


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N**: **Emmithar**, **CindyUSA**, **jadey36 **and **Katja Nilsen** - thank you for the lovely reviews! (**Emmithar **- love your fic too and Much is a much better choice for yours!) I couldn't resist the mix up over "John"s knowing people were waiting for Robin and Marian to see each other... ;)

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**Disclaimer**: BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary**: Later that night, Guy and the sheriff finally hear where the camp is...

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**CHAPTER 9**

**~o~o~o~  
**

Guy barely noticed what he was eating for dinner. He found himself idly poking a piece of gristle around his trencher as he tried to decide which of the other guards he could trust to help take care of their "guest". It helped to take his mind from the thought of Marian, lying still and pale in her bed upstairs.

When he and the sheriff had finished their meal, they returned to the concealed dungeon to be met by the guard who had been called in early for the night shift. The guard assured Guy the prisoner had not been allowed to sleep and then stood at nervous attention in the corner while the outlaw's interrogation resumed.

Guy had heard the guards joke that the only thing shorter than Sheriff Vaizey was his temper - or his patience. Two days of stubborn silence from the outlaw had worn both away to nothing. Guy knew how much Vaizey hated getting his hands dirty - in a literal sense anyway - and it was a measure of just how frustrated the sheriff was, that he had delivered several blows to the outlaw personally. For now though, he had stepped back to allow Guy to once more carry out the "hands-on" work.

The outlaw was still hanging with his arms suspended behind his back and his feet barely touching the ground. His arms were white from lack of blood but his hands were red from the tightness of the chains around them. The smallest finger of his left hand sat at an awkward angle, thanks to Vaizey's latest tactic.

Vaizey leaned over and put his mouth directly by the outlaw's ear. "Tell me where my Pact is," he said slowly.

The outlaw shook his head.

Vaizey sighed and stood up, nodding to Guy. "Again please, Gisborne."

Guy reached up, grabbed the ring finger of the outlaw's left hand and snapped it backwards, making the outlaw scream in pain.

"_Tell me where my Pact is_," Vaizey repeated. His teeth were gritted almost as much as the outlaw's.

Guy scratched his chin and yawned. It was getting late and they were getting nowhere - and he still had to go and see if there was any change in Marian's condition before he retired.

Vaizey spotted his action and instantly turned on him. "Not keeping you up are we, Gisborne?" he snapped.

Guy stood up straighter. "No, my Lord."

"All this physical exercise tiring you out perhaps? Or too much good food? No wonder Hood always escapes if you're not fit enough to keep up with him!" Vaizey took a hesitant step backwards and looked at Guy suspiciously. "You're not feeling ill, are you? Coming down with whatever the leper's got?"

"No, my Lord - I feel perfectly healthy, I assure you. It's just been a long day."

"For us all, dear boy," Vaizey said as he lifted the outlaw's head to check he was still conscious. "I heard you had some... extra activity with one of the guards earlier."

"He assaulted the prisoner, contrary to my orders," Guy said carefully.

"Temptation a little too much to resist, was it?" Vaizey let the outlaw's head drop.

"Something like that, my Lord."

"And you don't feel you possibly over-reacted?"

"No, my Lord. He attempted to... commit a lewd act upon the outlaw's person." Guy tried to remain emotionless but couldn't help squirming slightly uncomfortably in disgust at the thought.

A slow smile spread over Vaizey's face. "Did he now?" Vaizey turned back to the outlaw and lifted his head again. "Well, aren't you lucky you had such a chivalrous knight as Sir Guy here, to defend your honour?"

Guy rolled his eyes to the ceiling. He should have known better than to let the sheriff know the real reason for why he'd... over-disciplined the guard.

"Now, you listen to me," Vaizey hissed in the outlaw's face. "Gisborne was only annoyed because we don't like the guards to have too much fun. He'll have no qualms about finishing what that guard started if I order him to."

Guy frowned deeply at that. Beatings were one thing but Vaizey could find somebody else if he _really _intended to introduce sodomy as a torture method. He knew objects were sometimes employed in that way but his manhood would not be, and especially not at Vaizey's request. The very thought made his skin crawl. His sword arm may belong to the sheriff but other parts of him would remain resolutely his own. He was damned enough already.

"Not got the balls to do your own dirty work?" the outlaw rasped, staring defiantly into the sheriff's eyes.

Despite himself Guy smirked. It was a good answer and it made Vaizey even more furious.

"If you don't tell me where my Pact is, I'll get every guard in the castle down here to bugger you!" Vaizey screamed at the outlaw, spittle flying from his lips in his rage.

The outlaw closed his eyes and sighed. "It's... it's in the camp," he said quietly.

"What?" Vaizey was surprised by the sudden admission.

"The Pact - it's in the camp."

Guy leaned forward to hear better as the sheriff relinquished his hold on the outlaw's hair and took his face in his hands instead.

"Yes - we knew that already, thanks to _you _being kind enough to take me there. _Where is the camp_?" Vaizey pressed, finally seeing a chink of daylight in the outlaw's previously impenetrable defences.

"It's..." The outlaw was suddenly seized by a fit of coughing.

"Get him some water, Gisborne!" Vaizey snatched the cup from Guy's hands and fed it to the prisoner himself, he was so eager to finally hear what he'd waited for.

"It's in Sherwood," the outlaw continued.

"Yes, Sherwood, yes - we knew that too. _Where _in Sherwood?"

"It's near..." The outlaw's voice grew fainter and Guy and the sheriff both leaned in even further to hear him.

"Near... near what?" Vaizey asked impatiently. "A village? Which village?"

"It's near... some trees," the outlaw breathed - and then started chuckling softly.

Vaizey froze in place for a second then he stood erect and swung his fist at the outlaws' head with a huge roar of frustration.

Guy saw the man's head snap round from the blow and then drop straight away into unconsciousness. The outlaw's body sagged forward, pulling against his arms as his legs went slack. Guy stepped in to catch Vaizey's arm as he started to draw his dagger. "My Lord!"

Vaizey glared venomously at him.

"My Lord - he can tell us nothing if he's dead," Guy reasoned. "He's trying to goad you into killing him."

Vaizey continued to stare at Guy for a moment more, still breathing heavily, then his mask of self-control snapped back into place. "Quite right, Gisborne. Quite right..." Vaizey sheathed his dagger again and tugged at the hem of his tunic to straighten it. "We'll start again tomorrow." He turned on his heel and left abruptly.

Guy was about to follow him when the guard nervously spoke up. "Sir Guy?"

"What?"

"The prisoner... He might stop breathing if you leave him like that and I won't be able to move him on my own..."

Guy growled with frustration but the guard was right - in that position the outlaw's own weight could suffocate him. They lowered the outlaw to the floor, untied him from the rope and dragged him to his cell. Even between them it was tiring work. Not for the first time Guy wished it had been one of the other, lighter, outlaws they'd captured.

The guard unchained the outlaw's hands, rolled him over and chained them in front of him again. Guy slapped the prisoner's face a few times but got no response.

"Check him frequently," Guy instructed the guard. "If you can wake him, keep him awake. I'll bring the witch first thing in the morning."

"Yes, Sir Guy..."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: jadey36**, **Katja Nilsen**, **Love Jonas101** and **Emmithar **- thank you for the lovely reviews! It's so nice to get feedback!**  


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Disclaimer** : BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary: **Djaq and Will wait anxiously for Robin and Much to return from Nottingham; Guy checks on Marian again; John meets his new guard...**  
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CHAPTER 10**

**~o~o~o~  
**

Robin and Much had still not returned when Djaq got back to the camp with Will late in the evening.

She and Will had been forced to postpone taking the supplies to Clun until today. They hadn't been able to do all the food drops the day before. None of them had really appreciated just how much John carried, so at times it seemed like they were two men down instead of just one.

The news had already filtered out to the villages, and many of those they had spoken to in Clun today and in Nettlestone yesterday had offered their condolences. Djaq knew all the villagers meant well by their words, but each "Sorry" had twisted her heart with fresh pain and by the time they reached the camp again she was completely exhausted.

She sat on her bed and the first thing that met her eyes was John's bunk. Much had moved the sack with John's clothes in it to the small storage space underneath and now it had nothing on it but a few blankets. It was a long empty gap along one wall.

Will sat beside her and put his arm around her. He didn't say anything but his quiet understanding was comfort enough.

"I thought Robin and Much would be back from Locksley by now," Djaq said.

Will suddenly looked both nervous and a little guilty.

"What?" she asked him.

"They didn't go to Locksley. They went into Nottingham. It's market day and Robin was hoping to meet Marian's maid there."

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" Djaq exclaimed. "What if something has happened to them?"

"Robin didn't want you to worry."

"I am not his _mother_!" Djaq spat. "I do not need to be treated like...like..."

"Like we care about you?" Will said quietly.

Djaq took a deep breath but before she could respond they were interrupted by the sounds of Robin and Much approaching...

Robin jogged down the slope and then up the short rise into the camp. He caught Djaq glaring at him and stopped in the doorway.

Much came up, slightly breathlessly, beside him and looked from Robin to Djaq in confusion as they held each other's gaze.

_Will must have told her where we were..._ "I didn't want you to worry," Robin said firmly.

"Robin, I never worry about you and I always worry about you. What happened to John does not change that," Djaq said sternly.

"What?" Much looked even more puzzled.

"It's all right, Much. I know what she means." Robin walked over to where Will and Djaq still sat side by side and put his hands on Djaq's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Djaq. You're right - I should have trusted you."

Djaq acknowledged the apology. "Did you speak to Marian's maid?"

Robin looked around. He hesitated before sitting down on John's bunk and resting his bow against it. He ran one hand through his hair and let out a long breath, gathering his thoughts before replying. "Yes, yes I did."

Djaq and Will waited patiently for him to continue while Much quietly picked up Robin's bow and took it over to its usual resting place by Robin's bunk, before heading into the kitchen.

"Marian... is very sick," Robin said haltingly. "She has had a fever for two days now. That's why she wasn't there for John's execution." His voice caught on John's name and he frowned. _John... maybe she meant _Little _John..._ _She can't think I didn't hear about the execution though..._ _Did she manage to speak to him before it?_

"You went in to see her, didn't you?" Will said, interrupting Robin's thoughts.

Robin nodded. "I had to. I managed to speak to her and I think she knew I was there but--"

"Was her skin pale?" Djaq interrupted, suddenly interested.

"Yes."

"And dry? Or damp?" She leaned forward, studying him intently.

"Damp. Clammy. She was so hot... and I couldn't wake her properly."

Djaq stood up swiftly and lifted Robin's face. She examined his eyes and felt his forehead. "Hmm. How was her breathing?" she asked him.

"It sounded normal."

Much hurried through from the kitchen. "Is he all right? I _told _you you shouldn't see Marian, Master, I told you! Is he all right?"

Djaq smiled indulgently. "He is fine, Much. He is not hot and his eyes are clear." She turned back to Robin. "Do you know what they are doing for her?"

"Sarah said they were trying to cool her by bathing her. Gisborne had brought in several physicians. I don't know what potions they may have given her but I didn't see any signs they'd bled her."

"Good. Tomorrow I will prepare some medicines and we will go to Nottingham in the evening."

"Djaq, that's really not--"

"Ah!" Djaq held up a hand. "We go to Nottingham," she said firmly.

Robin grinned and he nodded. "We go to Nottingham..."

~o~o~O~o~o~

Marian's maid opened the door and immediately stood aside as she saw Guy standing there. "There's little change, my Lord. Her colour has improved but her fever remains."

Guy hurried past her, over to the bed. Marian's skin did look a little less pale but, as he watched, perspiration beaded on her forehead. "You gave her the medicine as instructed?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"And you're still bathing her to cool her?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Guy dug his nails into the palms of his hands as he clenched his fists. There was nothing he could do but wait - and he hated it. "Send a guard to fetch me if there's any change - and if I find out that you have closed _your _eyes for even a second tonight I will see to it they close permanently, understand?"

"Yes, my Lord!" The maid visibly paled at his words and Guy was reassured she would remain awake.

He took one last look back at the bed as he paused by the door and once more racked his brains with the lingering question - was he somehow responsible for her illness by keeping her confined to the castle?

_"Stay... and make this place bearable."__  
__  
__"I will stay."_

And she had - he'd made sure of it. Even though her smile as she hugged him had seemed genuine enough, he could not bring himself to take her at face value, not then. He could not shake the conviction that her smile was merely in gratitude for not asking more of her, rather than from a genuine delight in his request. So he'd found a hundred reasons for her not to leave the castle. He had assured her it was for her safety but more than anything it was really to ease his fear that she may walk out of the gate one day and never return. The only thing holding her here now was her promise to him and after the unmasking of the Nightwatchman had unravelled so many other dreams, that slender thread was not yet strong enough for him to hang any real hopes on.

He gently closed Marian's door and headed for his own room, where he knew he would once more find it hard to sleep. He smiled bitterly at a sudden thought - he was turning into a "Nightwatchman" himself...

~o~o~O~o~o~

"Come on..."  
_  
__No... Let me sleep..._

"Come on... That's it..."

John blinked his eyes open and tried to focus as the hand slapping his face retreated.

"There you go," the guard grinned down at him. "I knew Wat was lying when he said he'd been trying to wake you all night. Probably just had a good long kip himself, the lazy sod."

This was a new guard, a younger man John hadn't seen before. _Must be morning..._

"Let's get you up so you don't nod off again, eh?" The guard grabbed the chain between John's wrists and leant back against it to pull him up into a sitting position.

John yelled as the muscles across his shoulders and down his back suddenly became white-hot lines of pain. It felt like his arms were about to be ripped from their sockets.

The guard grabbed John round the back of his neck and braced his leg against John's back to keep him upright. "Bloody 'ell, mate! Been working on your arms, 'ave they?" He pressed his fingers, not gently, but not cruelly either, into John's shoulder. John hissed through his teeth as the guard nodded to himself. "You better shift yourself back against the wall then - unless you want me to lift you."

John could imagine all too well how it would feel if the guard grabbed him under his arms. He forced himself to shuffle backwards on his backside until he was able to lean against the wall. Even that short burst of activity was exhausting agony as his back twisted with each motion.

"Right... Water?"

John nodded hesitantly and the guard disappeared and came back with a small beaker. John automatically lifted his arms to take it but grimaced at the fresh wave of pain that produced.

"'ere." The guard knelt beside him and held the cup up to John's lips.

John eyed him suspiciously as he sipped at the water but relaxed as it became clear the guard was genuinely helping him.

"That's all you're getting mind," the guard said as he stood up again. "An' I'm not helpin' you get rid of it neither. You can sort yourself out there - unless you want to just piss yourself again."

John looked down, confused. Sure enough, the front of his leggings was stained. That must have happened some time during the night since it had had time to dry. He realised he'd been breathing through his mouth and couldn't smell anything. An attempt to breath through his nose made his mouth taste of blood but had little other effect.

"I wouldn't worry mate." The guard patted the top of John's head. "I'd probably piss myself too if they were using some of this stuff down 'ere on me!"

His cheery, cocky attitude reminded John unfavourably of Allan. John wanted to "explain", preferably with his fists, that fear had had nothing to do with it, but he had to content himself with glaring at the back of the young man's head as he walked away, back out into the corridor. He didn't have the breath or energy for anything else.

John heard the scrape of the chair against the floor in the main area as the guard settled himself, leaving John alone with his thoughts.

_Thank Christ, Vaizey was so easy to rile... I couldn't have taken much more of that... Had to tell him _something _though..._

_"We knew that already, thanks to _you _being kind enough to take me there." Smug bastard... As if I need reminding of _that_... Still, that punch I gave him must have knocked most of that day's memory out of him if he can't find it again now..._

John smiled. That had been a very satisfying moment - even if Much hadn't spoken to him for two days for letting the sheriff into _his _kitchen. Actually, Much not speaking to him for two days had been enjoyable in it's own way as well.

John felt a lump grow in his throat. He had, very briefly, spotted Much in the crowd at his execution and the concern on the other man's face had been plain to see.

_He won't miss me grumbling about his cooking though... I'd kill for some squirrel stew...__  
__  
__And I bet he's nabbed my bunk...__  
__  
__Never mind my bunk - I could sleep on a pile of sharp rocks right now..._  
_  
__I just couldn't lift any... _John felt a shiver run down his spine at that realisation._  
__  
__What if it's permanent? Heavy lifting is all I'm good for - what if I can't even do _that _any more? Robin won't want an useless old cripple hanging about...__  
_  
John blinked and was surprised to feel wetness on his cheeks. He smiled wryly.  
_  
__Better than pissing myself again I suppose..._

It hurt like hell but he slowly lifted his hand to wipe his face before the guard returned...


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: jadey36**, **Emmithar **and **CindyUSA **- thanks for the lovely reviews. Robin and Djaq are getting ready, promise...

Thank you also to everyone who's put the story in their Favourites or on Alert - that means a lot to me too.**  


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Disclaimer** : BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary: **John asks Matilda for an alternate escape route...

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**CHAPTER 11**

**~o~o~o~  
**

Matilda dreaded what she might find when Gisborne collected her and took her down to the dungeon the next morning after breakfast. She half expected John to still be hanging in the main area so when they stopped at the cell door she let out a small sigh of relief.

Her relief was short-lived.

John's arms were still attached to the rest of him but that was about all she had to be grateful for. He was sitting, propped up against the wall, in the corner of his cell. The bruises on his face and body had darkened while his skin had paled and his nose and moustache were crusted with dried blood. Gisborne must have acted on her admonishment about giving John more water but from the state of his leggings, John must not have had his hands free, or had not been conscious, when he needed to relieve himself of it. He looked to be asleep - or unconscious - but his eyes flickered open as the door grated on its hinges.

Matilda shook her head and tutted as she looked down at him. "Most men at least make an effort when they know they're going to meet a woman, John. You look worse every time I see you!"

"Sorry. Take it up... with my manservant," he replied grimly between laboured breaths.

Matilda carefully inspected his various injuries. "Anything new?"

John slowly held up his left hand with the broken fingers.

Matilda turned and directed her most venomous glare at Gisborne who merely shrugged.

"If he told us where Hood's camp is, none of this would be necessary," he said, calmly.

Matilda turned back to John. "I'll need to reset these before I bind them, John - sorry." She took hold of his ring finger and prepared to straighten it.

"Leave it!" Gisborne barked. "You can fix anything that might kill him - nothing else."

"You let me fix his shoulder!" Matilda protested.

"Because that was easy - and quick."

"So let me splint these. You can break them all over again in about two weeks time - or is that not quick enough for you?" she snarled.

"The sheriff's patience will not last two weeks," Gisborne said coldly. "He'll be dead by then."

"And you _still _won't know where the camp is," John said, faintly but defiantly.

"At least let me clean the cuts on his back!" Matilda hurriedly interjected as Gisborne took a threatening step forward. "If those get infected he could be dead by tomorrow."

Gisborne looked like he still wanted to punch John but he sniffed and nodded his head curtly in agreement.

Matilda helped John to sit in front of her with his arms resting on his legs. She knelt behind him and set to work with a bucket of water and some clean cloths, carefully wiping the sweat and dirt away from the whip welts on his back and the burns on his side.

Gisborne quickly grew bored and took the guard aside into the corridor. He kept his voice low but Matilda heard him making certain the new guard had learned the lesson of what had happened to the last one and explaining the consequences of any self-appointed harm dealt to the prisoner.

Once she was sure they were out of Gisborne's sight, Matilda hurriedly rummaged in her bag and took out two small bottles. "John - here! Drink one mouthful of this and then take two small sips of this - no more mind you!" She removed the stoppers from them and handed them to him one at a time. "The first will help fight any infection and the second is for the pain."

John hesitated after taking the two prescribed small sips from the second bottle and she gestured frantically to him. "Come on! Give it here before Gisborne comes back."

"What... what would happen if I drank it all?" John quietly asked.

"All of it? It'd kill you - that's what'd happen! Now give it here."

John's grip tightened slightly but noticeably around the vial. "I can't tell them where the camp is, Maddy." He turned and looked pleadingly up at her.

Matilda felt a lump come to her throat as she looked at the despair in his eyes. It had been a long time since she'd been called that by anyone. "Marian is going to find a way to tell Robin and he will get you out of here, John. I promise." She swallowed hard. "Please... give me the potion back," she said, softly. She gently pried John's large fingers from around the small bottle.

He didn't resist her but his eyes followed it all the way back into her bag. Only when it was fully hidden again did he close his eyes with a great sigh and let his head drop.

Matilda stroked his hair, then leaned over and kissed the side of his face. "I know, love, I know... I promise if Robin doesn't get you out soon, I'll give you the bottle back."

John turned and looked up at her again.

Matilda had seen that look more than once - gratitude for the offer of a swift death. She'd seen it on people who had finally accepted that whatever disease they were fighting had won and they were ready to surrender gracefully. There had been times when all her attempted remedies had failed or when it became apparent that continued life just meant continued pain. Sometimes she would just quietly leave the bottle by the bed and come back a few minutes later - sometimes if they were too far gone she'd even helped them take it themselves - but she always sat with them as they took their final long sleep. It was something she hated doing but a good end was the only victory you could take from some situations.

Could she really do that for a man who was still fit and in relatively good health? Whose wish to die was solely caused by the actions of others and not some illness or disease? She'd stopped Robin killing a man to prevent him telling his secret - was this any different? She just hoped that knowing the bottle was there if he needed it would give John the strength to hold on a little longer. It certainly seemed to bring a little determination back to his eyes.

She finished applying fresh ointment to John's back and the burns on his side, then moved in front of him, knelt between his legs and gently washed his face. She put some ointment on his eye and was just putting the rest of her bandages and potions away when Gisborne returned.

"Done?" he snapped.

"Yes."

"Good. Get your cloak and let's go."

Matilda helped John sit back. She leaned him against the cell wall on his better shoulder. "Don't rest against your back for a short while - give the ointment time to dry in."

He nodded and cradled his left wrist in his right hand, supporting his broken fingers. "Thank you."

Matilda ran her hand through his unruly hair and then leaned forward and kissed him again, briefly, but properly, on the mouth.

John looked up at her in surprise. "What was that for?"

"Thought I'd give you something else to hope for," she whispered, then as she heard Gisborne approaching she added more loudly for his benefit, "For luck, John."

"If he's lucky we'll give him a swift death when he tells us where Hood's camp is," Gisborne said with contempt as he towered over them.

"In your dreams, Gisborne," John growled.

Gisborne hauled Matilda to her feet. He turned back to John as they left the cell. "You've got eight more fingers and ten toes before I start on your legs. Dream about that!" He snatched the torch up from the wall outside the cell and carried it away, plunging the cell into darkness.

"You need to come see Marian again - she still has not woken from her fever," Gisborne told Matilda as they moved away up the corridor.

Matilda glanced back to the darkened cell door and beyond to the faint glow of the guard's torch in the lower area. She hoped John had not heard Gisborne's comment. If Marian never woke, then John was certainly lost as well and Matilda had a nasty feeling she would join them both very shortly after...


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: jadey36**, **Emmithar **and **CindyUSA **- thanks again for the reviews - I really appreciate them!

Slightly shorter chapter this time - but important none the less...**  


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Disclaimer** : BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary: **Matilda discovers why Marian's fever has not yet broken...

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**CHAPTER 12**

**~o~o~o~**

Matilda couldn't understand it. Marian's skin had a much healthier colour to it but she was still burning hot. She should have broken the fever by now and if she hadn't, she should be looking a lot worse.

"Give me some water," she snapped, temporarily forgetting who she was addressing. She held her breath and waited for the snarl.

Instead of reacting to being ordered about, Gisborne instantly rushed to comply and Matilda let herself enjoy what she considered a small victory. If only Vaizey had a weak spot she could exploit so easily...

Gisborne tipped the jug up, then upended it and growled in frustration. "There's none left – I'll get the maid to fetch some more." He strode over to the door, wrenched it open and stepped out into the corridor, pulling the door semi-closed behind him.

Matilda gasped as she felt a pinch on her arm and she looked down to see Marian smiling weakly back at her.

Marian winked and gestured with her eyes towards the door. As it opened and Gisborne came back into the room, she quickly closed her eyes again.

Matilda suppressed a smile. _You cunning little vixen..._ "Lady Marian's colour is a lot better. I think she's nearly over the fever. I have an ointment here which should help her break free of it completely."

"So what are you waiting for?" Gisborne snapped.

"I have to apply it to her back. You'll have to leave the room," Matilda stated as matter-of-factly as possible.

Gisborne hesitated but only very briefly. "I'll wait outside. Knock on the door when you're done. If she looks like she may wake then you'll have to stop. I'll send the maid in with the water when she gets back – be sure to cover your face."

Matilda nodded to show she understood and Gisborne left the room.

As soon as the door closed behind him Marian opened her eyes again. "It _is_ you," she whispered to Matilda with a large smile. "I had half convinced myself it was some dream brought on by my fever."

"If I was in your vision then surely it would be a nightmare and not a dream!" Matilda chuckled quietly. "How are you feeling?" She looked more closely at Marian's eyes.

"Quite tired... and hungry."

"I'm not surprised – you've had practically nothing but water for nearly three days."

"_Three _days!" Marian exclaimed. "I thought it was only two. I've missed a whole day somewhere."

"Mm – it was a nasty one, that's for sure..." Matilda said. She laid her hand on Marian's forehead. "And I can't understand why you're still so hot."

Marian smiled mischievously. "Because last time she went for water, I had Sarah sneak into the kitchen and fetch me a hot stone." She threw the covers back to reveal a flat blanket-wrapped bundle lying on her stomach.

Matilda laughed and hastily clamped her hand over her mouth in case Gisborne heard her. "Oh, if ever there was a match for young Master Locksley, you are it, my girl!" she whispered appreciatively.

Marian moved the hot stone to one side. "I wanted to make certain you had not been a dream. From what Sarah was able to tell me of you I thought it must be true, but I had to be sure. Keeping my 'fever' seemed like the only way to make Guy bring you to me again." She looked up hopefully at Matilda. "Please tell me this means that what I thought you told me is also true - Little John is not dead? Guy did not kill him?"

Matilda nodded but with a frown. "Not yet anyway. Vaizey is determined to make him give up the location of Robin's camp. They've been torturing him almost non-stop since they caught him."

"Poor John. We have to get him out," Marian said with determination.

"Did you manage to speak to Robin at all?" Matilda asked.

"I... I'm not sure," Marian grudgingly replied. "I know he was here - Sarah told me - and I tried to tell him, or at least I think I did, but I don't think he understood."

"Do you have any way of reaching him?"

Marian shook her head disconsolately. "No. I would ask Sarah to try and spot him in the town but today is one of the days he usually visits the villages, not Nottingham, and Sarah would find it hard to get away for that long. He may be here tomorrow."

Matilda sighed. "I don't think John has that long. He's in a pretty bad way."

There was a knock at the door and Marian quickly pulled the covers back over herself and closed her eyes.

Matilda wrapped her cloak around her head and went to open the door. She took the water from Sarah with a brief nod and, when she was sure Gisborne wasn't looking, a small wink.

Sarah flashed her a brief smile before she closed the door again.

Matilda poured two cups of water and handed one to Marian. "Drink it slow."

They both sat in thought for a few moments before Matilda had another idea. "What about Allan? I've seen him here a few times. Is he spying for Robin?"

Marian scowled. "No, he's not. He is working for Guy. Actually, I think it would be fairer to say he is working for _Allan_."

"Oh... Hmm..." Matilda frowned. "And he wouldn't help? Not even to save John?"

Marian considered this for a moment. There was certainly no love lost between John and Allan but while she could not believe Allan would actively wish the other man's death, neither did she think he would risk his own on John's behalf. "I don't think so... He might, but I'm not certain and we couldn't risk it. No, I'll have to do it myself," she said firmly.

"What? Don't be ridiculous!" Matilda snorted. "You're not getting out of that bed until tomorrow at least, young lady. You're in no shape to go gallivanting off into the woods looking for Robin."

"No. I don't mean I should go fetch Robin – I mean it'll have to be me, well... _us,_ that gets John out. You said yourself he doesn't have much time."

"Now I _know_ the fever's scrambled your wits," Matilda said incredulously. "You're suggesting you and I just stroll down to the dungeon, drag John out of there, walk him out the front gate and nobody will so much as bat an eyelid?"

Marian smiled. "That's almost _exactly_ what I'm suggesting - and here's how we'll do it..."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: ****CindyUSA - **surely you don't expect me to give away what the plan actually is! Where would be the fun in that? ;)

**Emmithar - **all will be revealed - Marian is full of good ideas and Robin and Djaq are on their way...**  
**

**Belle1025 - **thank you for the review! Glad you're enjoying John & Matilda and thank you for the note about Guy. This is my first time writing him so I'm really pleased when I hear from his fans they think I'm doing alright with him.**  
**

**GraniaMhaol - **Thank you! Lovely to have another reviewer. I'm curious where I'm taking it too! ;)**  
**

**Katja Nilsen **- I do like to keep you on your toes! :) Will try to keep updating regularly.**  


* * *

Disclaimer** : BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary: **Robin and Djaq finally head towards Nottingham but Vaizey decides he wants a private hanging...

* * *

**CHAPTER 13**

**~o~o~o~**

"Are you sure that will be enough?"

Djaq closed her eyes and took a deep breath before answering. "Yes, Robin. I am sure... and I cannot carry too much if we have to do any climbing to get into the castle."

"No, you're right. I'm sorry."

Djaq finished carefully packing her bag and turned to face Robin. He was pacing back and forth in the camp like a caged animal, as he had been for most of the day. Djaq had tried her best not to let his anxiety get to her while she painstakingly prepared the potions she thought may be the most useful. The problem was that a fever could be a symptom of so many things.

"Ready?" He was half-way out of the door before she answered.

"Yes." She slung the bag over her shoulder and followed him, closing the camp door behind them.

They set off at a brisk pace towards Nottingham...

~o~o~O~o~o~

"Ah, Gisborne." Vaizey looked up as Guy joined him in front of the locked dungeon door. "All sorted with the saddler?"

"Yes, my Lord. The new tack will be delivered next week." Guy took out the key, unlocked the door and then stood back to allow the sheriff to enter first.

"Excellent. Shall we proceed to our other business of the day then?"

"Yes, my Lord." Guy followed Vaizey and locked the door behind them. "I don't think he's going to break, my Lord."

"Everybody breaks, Gisborne. Even your friend Lambert eventually gave up that ledger - though sadly to Hood and not me." Vaizey stopped half-way down the stairs and looked back up at Guy, his eyes narrowing. "Hmm... I wonder if we could persuade your boy to stage a fake 'rescue'. Convince the brute he's swapped sides again; get him to show him where the new camp is - so he can take him safely home, of course..."

"What about the witch?" Guy asked. "Allan knows nothing of her - what if the outlaw talks?"

"Surely if that were a concern, Gisborne, you wouldn't be sneaking the old crone in to tend to your leper, would you?" Vaizey suddenly rounded on him, poking his finger into Guy's stomach.

Guy quickly looked down, avoiding the sheriff's glare. _Damn!_

"Since Marian is almost recovered, and our friend down here is almost dead, I don't think there's any reason for Matilda to see either of them again - do you?"

"No, my Lord."

"No - and no reason for anyone else to see her either. She stays in that room - am I clear?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Good. Now, let's go break the good news... and maybe some more fingers," Vaizey chuckled.

Guy followed the sheriff down the rest of the stairs and along to the cell...

"Afternoon!"

John's eyes flicked up briefly but quickly glanced away again. The smug look on Vaizey's face did not bode well.

"I have some good news for you."

_I doubt it..._

"We decided you should get your hanging after all! In a manner of speaking anyway - we had you _hanging _most of yesterday already, didn't we?"

Gisborne and the guard stood to each side of John. They grabbed each of his wrists with one hand and put the other under each of his arms and hauled him to his feet.

John gritted his teeth but couldn't stop a small grunt of pain escaping his lips. He quietly seethed at the look of satisfaction on Vaizey's face at the sound.

Gisborne and the guard stumbled with him to the cell door then guided him down the stairs into the main area. To John's surprise they passed under the dreaded hook from yesterday and moved further back into the less well lit corner of the room, furthest from the stairs. John had always been facing the stairs and had not had a chance to get a good look at that part of the room before. As Vaizey moved in front of them with the torch, John finally got to see the last piece of equipment in the dungeon.

The table was a large slab of oak, stained dark over years of use. It was tilted so one end was about two feet higher than the other. Thick iron bands were placed near the corners and on the sides in the middle. Near the top end there were two holes quite close together with a length of rough hemp rope running between them. The rest of the rope hung down under the table and had large knots at each end.

John struggled but could only put up a token resistance as Gisborne and the guard manhandled him so he was lying on the table, on his back, with his arms by his sides. They removed his manacles and the guard secured the bands round his ankles while Gisborne placed those in the middle of the table around John's wrists.

Gisborne pushed John's head aside and pulled the loop of rope up until the knots on either end banged against the underside of the table. He then pulled it down over John's head and dropped it. The weight of the knots on either end held the rope snugly under John's chin but he was still able to breathe... for now.

"I'm sure even a brute like you can work out what this does - but just in case..." Vaizey nodded at Gisborne who demonstrated the effectiveness of the position by grabbing one of the knots under the table and pulling it. The rope dragged across John's neck until the other knot hit the underside of the table and held fast. The rope then bit up into John's throat as it tightened, choking him. It was like being hanged while lying down.

John bucked and strained against the metal bands at his wrists and ankles as the blood roared in his ears. Suddenly the pressure across his windpipe lifted and he coughed as he gasped in precious air.

"You see the problem with hanging," Vaizey explained. "Other than you can usually only do it once - is that there's no way to adjust the pressure, since it's your body weight pulling you against the rope - it's all or nothing._ This _way Gisborne can tighten that rope as and when he likes." Vaizey looked up and signalled again. This time Gisborne grabbed the other knot and John felt the rope rasping back across his neck in the other direction, before once more crushing into his throat.

"I've heard that it's possible to hang a man _just _long enough so you kill the mind without killing the body." Vaizey's voice cut through the pounding in John's ears. "Be interesting to see if we can do that."

The pressure eased and John felt the leather of Gisborne's glove against the side of his neck as Gisborne dug his fingers under the rope and lifted it away. It was red and slick with skin and blood from John's neck.

"What do you think, Gisborne? If he persists in this stubbornness... Kill his mind and keep him around as a big brainless pet?" Vaizey nodded again and John gasped in a quick breath before the rope snapped tight for the third time. It was like a line of fire searing across his neck. "Just think," Vaizey whispered in John's ear. "I could have my very own dancing bear..."

_God, no... anything but that... just let it stop... please...__  
_  
The rope loosened. "Where is Hood's camp?"_  
__  
__I can't... I mustn't... _John screwed his eyes shut as the rope bit in hard again.

"Tell me," Vaizey coaxed.

_The ravine, a mile southwest of Dead Man's Crossing... _John gasped for air as the rope slackened off._ Just tell him... It'll all stop..._

"Come on... You already showed me it once before... Hood must have been _thrilled _to get back there to find you'd brought me right to it and then let a couple of _children _overpower you..."  
_  
__Just tell him... Robin's not coming... You did what you could... You're no more use anyway...__  
_  
"This time he won't even know it was you who told me - he already thinks you're dead after all..."

_"Marian knows you're here"... Robin will know... He'll know! Allan's never given up the camp - he'll know it was you! Traitor!_ John closed his mouth again and shook his head slowly from side to side.

There was an exasperated tut from Vaizey and the rope tightened again. This time it stayed taut long past when it had been released before.  
_  
__No! Not like this... God, please... _

John thrashed frantically but his limbs grew heavier and heavier as everything faded to blackness...

~o~o~O~o~o~

Djaq halted instantly as Robin held up his hand. They both dropped into a crouch and Djaq remained still, listening intently as Robin slowly drew an arrow and fitted it to his bow.

She turned her head to look behind them as she heard what had alerted Robin - someone was running through the trees towards them, down the same trail they were on. Robin signalled to some bushes off to their left and Djaq crawled into them as quietly as possible as Robin ducked behind a tree on the other side of the trail. She lowered her bag carefully to the ground and put her hand on the hilt of her sword, ready to draw it once their pursuer made him or herself known.

He was such a small figure and was running so fast that he was almost past them before either of them recognised him.

Robin stepped out from his hiding place and called after him. "Daniel!"

The young boy from Locksley spun on his heels so quickly he fell over in a tangle of limbs.

Djaq and Robin both hurried to pick him up and dust him off.

"Robin!" Daniel was red in the face. He held his side as he spoke. "Locksley... threshing floor... Abbie Weaver's... youngest... flail... cut her head..." he panted out between breaths.

_Abbie Weaver's youngest... _a girl who would be about three years of age if Djaq recalled correctly. She put her hands on Daniel's shoulders. "Stand up straight, Daniel. Take deep breaths."

Daniel put his hands on his hips and did as instructed.

"Now, again... and more slowly please."

"Issy Weaver, Abbie's youngest - she wandered off while Abbie was hanging out skeins and she got too close to the men on the threshing floor. One of them hit her on a back swing before they even knew she was there. Her head's wide open. I said I'd come find you. You weren't at the camp so..." Daniel looked from Djaq to Robin as if surprised neither of them had moved yet. "She's... she's not dead - but her heart is very faint," he added.

Djaq nodded. "Thank you, Daniel." She collected her bag from the bushes before meeting Robin's eyes.

Robin glanced up the trail in the direction of Nottingham and then back towards Locksley. His gaze dropped to the ground and he closed his eyes.

Djaq strongly suspected he was praying.

"You'd better take us to her, Daniel," Robin finally said.

"Robin, you could take these medicines to Nottingham while I go to Locksley," Djaq suggested.

"No, nobody goes anywhere on their own. Not me to Nottingham and not you to Locksley... and I wouldn't want to risk giving Marian the wrong thing." He took a deep breath. "Marian has others to look after her - I shall have to trust to them. Issy Weaver only has you."

Robin turned to Daniel. "Run ahead and let them know we're coming."

Daniel nodded and sped off through the trees.

"Robin--"

"It's fine, Djaq." He looked once more towards Nottingham before turning back. "It's fine..."

* * *

**A/N**: Any directions in this fic are pulled completely from thin air... I have no _idea _where the camp is. John wouldn't tell me either... and I was _much_ nicer to him than the sheriff... ;)


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N: ****Thank you for the lovely reviews! **_

_**CindyUSA -** I know, I know... I'm naughty! ;) I'm still trying to keep you all guessing.**  
**_

_**Emmithar - **Vaizey does have some evil ideas (what do you mean they're mine - it's the Sheriff I tell you!) John's pretty fragile but Matilda and Marian have all sorts of tricks up their sleeves to help him... **  
**_

_**Katja Nilsen **- He came close but John sets such store by loyalty he'd hate to be thought a traitor himself. Vaizey said exactly the right (or wrong!) thing to him._

_**jadey36** - That was a tough choice for Robin but he knew what he had to do. Which of course makes it that much harder on him. _

**

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Disclaimer** : BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary: **Marian and Matilda set their plan in motion - with only a castle full of guards and three locked doors between them and John...

* * *

**CHAPTER 14**

**~o~o~o~**

Marian lay down and pulled the blankets up under her chin. She heard the door creak open as she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on keeping her breathing slow and even.

There was a pause then Guy's voice cut through the air, irritated and impatient. "Stand aside."

"I'm sorry, my Lord, but Lady Marian is asleep and that wise woman you brought earlier said it would be best for her if she were left in peace to wake up on her own," Sarah said quietly. Marian imagined Sarah standing in the doorway, subtly impeding Guy's access to the room.

"Asleep? So her fever has broken?" Guy asked, a hint of hope creeping into his words.

"Yes, my Lord, the fever has gone. She is just sleeping now."

Guy gave an audible sigh of relief. "Send me word as soon as she wakes, no matter the hour."

"Of course, my Lord."

Marian waited until she heard the latch of the door fall into place again. She opened her eyes and pushed back the covers with a sigh. "I cannot fault him for being so attentive but I wish he had chosen to call earlier."

She swung her feet out of the bed and gestured to Sarah to hand her the worn peasant's boots she had fetched from their hiding place.

"He's been right concerned for your health, milady. That first night you were in a fever, he slept half of it outside your door."

"Really?" Marian paused while pulling on the boots.

"And he looks as if he's not slept himself these past two days."

Marian slowly set her feet down on the floor. "He shows such tenderness towards me sometimes, I almost would not believe he is the same man so feared by the people if I had not seen his actions for myself. If only I could convince him to show such compassion to others."

"He doesn't love any others, milady. Not even himself."

Marian looked up sharply and Sarah blushed and looked away. "I'm sorry, milady - I spoke out of turn."

"No, you spoke true, I think." Marian said as she finished dressing in the simple clothes. "And I have always encouraged you to speak your mind with me."

"Milady?"

"Yes, Sarah?"

"Are... Are you coming back?"

Marian halted by the window. Truth be told she had not even considered that until now. Her plan ended with John being safely delivered back to Robin. Where she herself went at that point was not decided.

She turned to Sarah and, as she saw the nervous look on her maid's face, the decision was made for her. "Yes, Sarah, I am. At least, I will certainly try to. If I am not back here before dawn however, there is a small bag of money in my writing chest. Take it and get yourself and Jess out of Nottingham."

"Thank you, milady. Good luck."

"Thank you, Sarah. I could not have done any of this without you." They quickly embraced then Marian fastened her cloak around her neck and stepped out into the cool night air...

~o~o~O~o~o~

Matilda's heart leapt into her throat as she heard the lock in the door of her room rattling. She nudged her bag further under her cot with her foot. If it was Gisborne, she would have a tough time explaining why she was up and dressed for travel at this time of night.

As the rattling continued her mood changed from anxiously wondering who it was at her door, to growing steadily more exasperated over how long it was taking Marian to pick the lock. She grabbed her bag and stood by the door. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door clicked open and Marian appeared.

"Sorry - I must be out of practice." Marian slipped inside the door and shut it behind her. "Are you ready to go?"

"As I'll ever be," Matilda replied. She looked with concern at Marian's face which was still very pale. "Are you sure you're up to this?"

Marian nodded. "Yes, I'm fine."

"How did you get out of your room?"

Marian hesitated before reluctantly replying, "I got Sarah to distract the guard while I climbed along the ledge to the next window."

"You did _what_?" Matilda hissed.

"I've done it a hundred times before--"

"Not when you've been in bed for three days I'll wager! Did you eat anything yet?"

"Not much. Sarah wasn't able to get any extra food and she can't just ask for some without giving away that I'm awake again."

Matilda rolled her eyes at the foolhardiness of youth. She picked up an apple she had saved from her own meagre dinner and handed it to Marian. "Here, take this. We need to grab some food for John anyway - I'll be sure to get you something too. Let's go!" Matilda reached for the door handle but Marian stopped her.

"No, there's a guard patrolling this level. We need to wait for him to pass again - that will give us the most time to get by him and down the stairs."

Matilda stepped back. "You _have _done this before, haven't you?" she said appreciatively.

"Once or twice," Marian replied, smiling. "Did you have any problems with the potions?"

"No, I had all the ingredients. I just hope you remembered those recipes right - God only knows what might happen if you didn't."

"Djaq is a very good teacher. I'm sure I remembered them correctly."

"Well if he turns purple and starts spitting fire, I'm blaming you!"

"Shh!" Marian put her ear to the door.

Matilda joined her and listened as a set of heavy footsteps approached and then receded from the door.

"Ready?" Marian asked.

Matilda nodded. "Now or never, I suppose..."

They crept out into the corridor, hurried along it to the stairs and then went down them and back along the corridor towards the dungeons.

Marian felt her stomach lurch at the sight of the dungeon door. She had purposefully avoided coming past it since that fateful day she had last spoken to her father. She had had no reason to be anywhere near the dungeons since then - until now.

She put her hand to the door and to her surprise it swung slightly open. A blast of foul, stale air met her nostrils. The stench of damp, tinged with the acrid bite of blood brought bitter memories of things both said and left unsaid. Her head swam and the bile rose in her throat again.

She took a deep breath. _You can do this... Little John needs you..._ She rummaged in her cloak and pulled out the lock pick.

Matilda suddenly grabbed her arm. "No, I told you - he's not in the main dungeon. They've got him in a hidden one further along here."

Marian could have cried from relief. She would not have to face those demons just yet.

Matilda dragged her along to the door in the corner. "I'm going to pop along to the kitchens and swipe some food. You get that door open. I'll be right back."

Marian nodded and set to work as Matilda padded softly away. She glanced up occasionally, conscious that concentrating too much on her task would leave her open to being surprised by a guard.

The lock was even more stubborn that the one to Matilda's room and Marian grew more and more frustrated as all her efforts seemed completely in vain. She listened intently as she tried to feel out the internal mechanism for what felt like the twentieth time... and froze at the sound of the deep male voice immediately behind her.

"I 'eard it was death's door you were at - not this one... Need an 'and?"


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N: ****Thank you for more lovely reviews and sorry for the delay. Real life is being a bit of pain right now...  
**_

**

* * *

Disclaimer** : BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary: **Marian and Matilda have made it as far as the dungeon - but who's waiting there for them?

* * *

**CHAPTER 15**

**~o~o~o~**

_Marian froze at the sound of the deep male voice immediately behind her.__  
__  
__"I 'eard it was death's door you were at - not this one... Need an 'and?"__  
__  
_She spun round, her fist coming up in a swift backhand.

He was expecting the move and easily caught her by the wrist. "Ah, ah, ah. You don' want to tire yourself out now, do you? You must be exhausted from all that 'ard sleepin' you've been doin'," Allan grinned.

"Allan! What are _you _doing here?" Marian hissed at him.

Allan's smile vanished and he frowned. "What am _I_ doin' 'ere? You've been ill in bed for three days and had Guy worried sick and now I find you up and about, trying to get into the very door 'e's been sneaking into when 'e thinks I'm not lookin'!"

"You've not been in here yourself?" To his surprise, Marian seemed almost relieved at his admission.

"No. 'E's been tighter than a duck's arse about what's in 'ere. I only figured out this was where 'e was going 'cause I'd already checked everywhere else. Thought I might try to sneak a peek tonight. Looks like you 'ad the same idea."

"Yes - except... I know what's in there and I need to get it." Marian looked at the lock again, her frustration evident on her face.

_Result!_ "So..?" Allan waited for her to let the cat out of the bag but Marian remained tight-lipped.

Allan sighed. "Look - I'll help you get the door open, you show me what's in there, we all go back to bed - deal?"

"I'm sorry, Allan - I don't think you should see what's down here."

"What? What is it? The crown jewels or somethin'? Worried I'll be too tempted and run off with it?" Allan rubbed his hands together in anticipation. It must be something pretty valuable for Marian to be so anxious.

"No, nothing like that." Marian returned to fiddling with the lock but after only a few seconds stepped back again with a small grunt of annoyance and that pout to her bottom lip that always reminded Allan just how young she was.

"'ere, move over." He nudged her aside and drew out a set of keys.

"Keys?" Marian gasped. "You have keys?"

"Well, yeah - much easier than fiddling about with lockpicks, innit? I just _borrowed _'em from Giz when 'e wasn't lookin' and made copies. Took a while but well worth it." He started trying different keys in the lock. "Speakin' of takin' a while..." he muttered. It took him a few tries to find the one that fitted the door but eventually they heard the key turn and with a soft click, the door opened.

Allan turned and grinned at Marian, then gestured to the slightly open door. "Shall we?"

Marian put her hand on his arm. "Allan - I can't thank you enough for helping but I really think you should go now. Please. For your own safety, if nothing else."

Allan stopped at the desperation in her voice. She was genuinely _pleading _with him, both in words and actions. "What's down there, Marian?" he asked seriously.

"Allan, please - trust me. I promise you will find out tomorrow but for now you cannot know and you cannot have seen me. Be somewhere else just now. In fact, I think you should be _seen _to be somewhere else just now - like a tavern or the guards room. We must both be above suspicion tomorrow."

"You in your sick bed and me in my cups, eh?" Allan glanced towards the door one last time. His curiosity was killing him - but so would Guy if something happened tonight and they thought he had something to do with it. If Marian thought it was that important he should have a watertight alibi, then he probably should. "Tomorrow? Promise?"

"I promise. Guy will probably tell you himself - I hope!" Marian gave a small mischievous smile and it was that more than anything that finally won Allan over.

"I 'ope you know what you're doin'. I'm gonna be awake all night wonderin' what's down 'ere..." Allan muttered. "Still, since you're practically _orderin_' me to go the pub, the night's not a total waste, eh?"

"Thank you, Allan." Marian hugged him, quickly but fiercely. "Go enjoy yourself - and make sure everybody knows you're there."

"Come on, Marian - it's me, innit? That'll be no problem at all!"

He turned and headed for the stairs then stepped out and strolled down them towards the gate, whistling nonchalantly. The urge to glance back was an almost physical itch between his shoulder blades but he'd never worried too much about looking back before - why start now?

"All quiet, lads? Just thought I'd pop out for a pint or two - and maybe a lass or three." He winked to the guards on the gate and headed into town...

~o~o~O~o~o~

"I'm glad Allan was not part of this. I still didn't feel we could trust him completely but I cannot imagine he would hurt John himself," Marian said, after Matilda had come back from the kitchens and Marian had explained to her how the door had been opened.

"I think Baldy wanted as few people as possible to know John was even still alive," Matilda replied as they crept cautiously down the stairs.

"So who _does _know John is here?"

"You, me, Gisborne, Vaizey and two or three guards... oh, and John himself, of course... and your maid."

Matilda turned to face Marian as Marian's steps suddenly stopped behind her. Marian swayed slightly on her feet and Matilda put out an arm to support her.

"You... you said they'd been torturing him..." Marian said faintly.

Matilda paused for a moment until she realised what Marian was concerned about. She sighed heavily, then put one hand on Marian's shoulder. "I've not actually been there - though I was nearby on one occasion - but, to the best of my knowledge, the jailer doesn't know about John either. All John's torture--"

"You don't know for sure," Marian tried to interrupt.

"--has been at Gisborne's hands," Matilda finished.

Marian did not say anything or even shake her head, refusing to acknowledge Matilda's words.

Matilda sighed. "No, I don't know for sure," she conceded. "It may have been the guards - some of it I know for a fact was inflicted by a guard - but even if he didn't dish it all out himself, Gisborne was there and he knows everything that's been going on."

"He is only acting on Vaizey's orders," Marian said weakly. "If I could just get him away from the sheriff's influence... There is a good man in him - I know it!"

"He's buried pretty bloody far down then," Matilda muttered. She held her hands up as Marian glared at her. "No, I know, he's not _all_ bad - very few people are - but you're fooling yourself if you think you can change him."

"You're wrong. Guy can change. He is still capable of showing care and compassion. Sarah told me how attentive he has been to me."

"You can't judge him just on how he deals with you! He's besotted with you is all!"

Marian was about to reply when they heard the scrape of the guard's chair further down the corridor. They both turned and looked towards the location of the noise, suddenly remembering the all-too-real dangers of their mission.

"Ready?" Matilda asked.

Marian nodded...

~o~o~O~o~o~

The guard got up and swiftly jogged up the stairs as he heard boots stomping down the corridor towards where he was sitting. To his surprise the witch was there but there was no sign of Sir Guy. He met her about half-way down the corridor.

The old woman stopped in front of him and threw her hood back. "Well, where is he? Sir Guy was having a problem with the lock on the door so he sent me down here to get started." She shuffled round him, heading towards the cell and looked back at him expectantly. "Well?"

The guard turned on the spot, following her as he spoke. "He, er, Sir Guy said you wouldn't be visiting again - there's no need."

"I'll be the judge of that, son. But if Sir Guy's got me out of bed at this time of night on a fool's errand I'll not be best pleased." She suddenly stopped and turned to face him, fixing him with a piercing glare the guard found very unnerving. "What's that on your head?"

"My... helmet?" the guard said uncertainly.

"Not your helmet, you ninny! Under it, on your forehead. Take it off, let me have a look."

The guard quickly complied, suddenly fearful. "What? What is it? A mark?"

She leaned towards him, beckoning to him with one grubby finger, stained by who-knew-what witches brew. "No, not a mark - but let me tell you something very important..."

He listened intently - and everything suddenly went black...

"Never turn your back on a woman with a skillet," Matilda finished with glee as she caught him and lowered him to the ground. She looked up and winked at Marian. "Good shot."

Marian crouched down, putting the pan Matilda had brought from the kitchen down on the floor. She removed the guard's keys from his belt and then tied him up while Matilda checked his head and made sure he could breathe properly.

"Right. Give me those." Matilda held her hand out for the keys and hunted through them for the correct one as she moved down the corridor. "This should be him in here. John! John, wake up!" Matilda had the key half-turned in the lock before she looked up and saw the cell was empty. Her stomach plummeted to her boots.

Marian caught her up and looked bewildered into the empty cell. "Maybe the other one?" she suggested.

"No." Matilda had glanced into it as they passed. "It's always been empty - and he's always been in here." She gestured to the scrap of blanket on the floor. "Unless... Come on."

She led Marian down the stairs into the main area. It was lit by a single torch at the foot of the stairs and her heart sank further as she saw the chains swinging freely from the ceiling.

She saw Marian recoil from the smell and the sight of the blood stains on the floor and Matilda felt a sudden regret that she herself was now so used to them she hadn't reacted at all. She grabbed the torch and ventured further into the gloom. "There he is!" she exclaimed as she spotted the large outline lying on a slanted table by the far wall.

John was lying on his back with his arms by his sides. His wrists and ankles were secured to the table by thick iron bands. A rough hemp rope lay across his neck, which was bloody and raw. His wrists and ankles were also badly chafed and bruised, showing the struggle he must have put up when the choke was applied. His large chest showed no sign of movement.

_"Sir Guy said you wouldn't be visiting again - there's no need."_

Matilda and Marian rushed over to him, praying they weren't too late...


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** thank you again for the reviews! Glad you liked the "skillet" line! There may be a short delay before I can get the next chapter up but it is coming - promise!

**

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Disclaimer** : BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary: **The great escape...

* * *

**CHAPTER 16**

**~o~o~o~**

_John was lying on his back with his arms by his sides. His large chest showed no sign of movement.__  
__  
__Matilda and Marian rushed over to him, praying they weren't too late..._

Marian gasped as the torchlight showed her the full extent of John's injuries. The John she knew was tall and solid; a dependable presence in a large leather coat. The pale figure lying before her was stripped of nearly all his clothes, with deep bruises on his body and face. His wrists, ankles and neck were rubbed raw from manacles and ropes.

"Don't worry - it's worse than it looks," Matilda said grimly, with no trace of a smile at her 'joke'. "You should see his back." She placed the torch in a sconce on the wall beside them. "Mind his fingers."

Marian looked down and saw the hand nearest to her - that same large hand he had laid so gently on her shoulder - had its ring and little fingers broken.

Surely Guy could not be capable of such... such _concentrated _barbarism, such... inhumanity. She could have sworn she had seen a change in him recently. He had risked his own neck and Vaizey's wrath when the Nightwatchman had "escaped". He could have asked her for almost anything in return yet his only request had been for her to stay. He had returned to the castle when Sir Jasper and Prince John's forces were on the brink of razing it to the ground...

He had burned down her home. He had stabbed Winchester low in the gut so he would not die quickly.

But that had been so long ago now. She was _sure _she had been getting through to him but maybe... maybe as long as he was under Vaizey's control it did not matter what she did; it would all be in vain as long as the sheriff could simply order him to perform like the ruthless and obedient hunting dog she knew he wanted Guy to become.

Marian hesitantly reached out and stroked the back of John's hand. His skin was cold. "Is he...?"

Matilda placed her head on John's chest and listened carefully. "No - no, he's still alive," she said, with great relief.

Marian sighed thankfully as well. She stepped around the end of the table and reached underneath, pressing the two knots of rope up against the wood. The rope looped out on either side of John's head but remained stuck across his throat.

Matilda carefully worked to loosen the rope from John's neck and then pushed it back over his head. She rustled in her bag and took out a small vial which she opened and held under his nose.

For a second nothing happened then John snorted and his eyes blinked open. He took a second to focus on her face. "Maddy?" he croaked.

"Hello, John," she replied.

He looked at her almost accusingly. "Please... just let me go." It was barely a whisper but both the words and the pain contained in them were clear.

Marian was confused for a moment until she realised what John was really asking for and her heart went out to him. They were clearly not a minute too soon in reaching him.

Matilda gently stroked his face as she smiled down at him. "That's exactly what we're here to do, John. We're getting you out of here."

"What? 'We' who?" He started to lift his head but Matilda pressed lightly on his chest.

"Shh, lie easy, John. Soon have you out of this..." She started to remove the metal pins securing the bands down John's left side while Marian squeezed round behind the table to do those down his right.

Marian leaned over him as she worked to free his hand. She tried to force a smile, though she was sure there were tears in her eyes. "Hello, John."

John smiled back but his face was confused. "Lady Marian? Where's Robin?" he asked, hoarsely.

"I couldn't get a message to him, John, I'm sorry," Marian apologised. "And I'm sorry I couldn't make it here myself sooner."

"Not your fault," Matilda said, reasonably. "Besides, if you'd not been ill, I would never have got to see you in the first place."

John lifted his head and looked down at both of them as they freed his feet. "You mean... it's just you two?" he said, incredulously.

"'Fraid so, John," Matilda replied.

John's head dropped back to the table. "Too risky. You should... go back...before you're caught. Put me back."

"Don't be daft. It's much too late for that now, John," Matilda told him as she straightened up. "Now get your stubborn arse up off that table, because the one thing Marian and I _can't_ do is carry you."

Marian came back round to the front. She and Matilda helped John slowly sit up and swing his legs round. He swayed slightly with dizziness and gripped the edge of the table as best he could.

Marian leaned forward and put her hand on his chest to steady him. She coughed and blinked her eyes as the strong smell of John's body and clothes hit her.

John lowered his head and looked embarrassed. "Sorry - must be pretty ripe," he said apologetically.

"It's fine, John." Marian smiled reassuringly at him. "I didn't expect you to smell of rose petals." She looked at the dark curls of hair pressed under her hand as John closed his eyes and breathed slowly, trying to get his balance back. She was surprised by how wiry they felt under her fingers and noticed that, like his beard, some of his chest hairs had turned white, betraying his age. _I suppose Robin's will do likewise one day... _She smiled at the thought just as John opened his eyes again and it was Marian's turn to blush as she quickly removed her hand and stepped back.

"Nothing a good wash won't fix, but that can wait - this can't." Matilda quickly shared out the food she had taken from the kitchen between John and Marian. "I know we're in a hurry but you both need to eat something before we move. Wouldn't be helpful to have either one of you faint on me - least of all _you_, John." She grabbed the water and poured the wine she'd taken into it. "Here." She soaked John's bread in it to soften it and fed it to him in small morsels.

"I'm not... a child, Maddy" he protested between mouthfuls.

"I know, you're a big strong man," she said condescendingly. "But you're a big strong man who's not eaten for three days and if I gave you this you'd eat it all in two bites which would be bad for you. Now shut up and finish the rest the same way."

Marian tried hard not to smile at John being lectured as Matilda turned to her. "That goes for you too. Eat it slowly. You're still recovering."

"Are you feeling better now?" John asked Marian.

"Well enough to deal with your guard pretty handily," Matilda interrupted before Marian could reply.

"Yes, John, I'm much better, thank you - thanks to Matilda."

"You and me both," John agreed. "Is he all right?"

"Who?" Matilda asked, frowning.

"The guard. He was just a young lad and he... he was fairly decent to me."

Matilda shook her head and gave John a puzzled look. "Oh, him - he'll be fine. He'll have a headache and a half but nothing worse... and he's learned a valuable lesson," she said, with a smirk.

John nodded, seemingly satisfied, and finished off his food.

Marian also finished eating and brushed the crumbs from the front of her dress. "We really must go. I don't know how long the cart will be left there."

"Cart? What cart?" John said, curiously.

"Wait and see," Matilda replied as she and Marian helped John to his feet.

"I'll check the coast is clear," Marian said.

Matilda nodded. "We'll be right behind you."

Marian headed up the corridor and checked the guard was still unconscious. She looked back to see John and Matilda slowly climbing the short flight of steps up from the lower area then crept up the stairs towards the door...

~o~o~O~o~o~

"Thank you, Sarah!" Marian muttered under her breath, heartily relieved to find everything was where she expected it to be. She returned to the door leading back into the castle.

Matilda and John were standing in the shadows just inside the door - or rather, Matilda was standing and John was slumped against the wall. His breathing was laboured and he looked on the point of collapsing.

She ducked inside the doorway and motioned for them to follow her.

John caught her arm as she was about to step back outside. "Marian, please - you'll never get out of here with me in this state, " he wheezed. "Let me distract the guards and you can at least get yourself and Matilda out."

Matilda made an exasperated noise and Marian shook her head. "Absolutely not, John. We are _all _getting out of here. It will take all three of us for this to work."

"For _what _to work?" John asked.

"We're going to walk you out the front door, John," Matilda replied. She put her arm round him and gently but firmly guided him outside.

"You're what?" He looked between the two of them as if they'd suggested he flap his arms and fly out.

The door opened in the side of one of the towers, around the corner from the main entrance and by the back door to the kitchens. There was a small handcart standing there; a simple wooden platform, about six feet long and a couple of feet wide, mounted on two wheels with two supporting legs at the back. The legs were shorter than the wheels so when the cart was resting back against them, both the platform and the long crossbar out front for one or two people to pull it, were on a slight angle.

"Here - get up on this with your feet at the back," Marian told John.

John hesitated and Marian suddenly realised the cart looked not entirely dissimilar to the table they had just released him from.

"John, please - we're too exposed out here. We need to hurry."

John shook himself and they both helped him climb up onto the cart where he lay down. Marian pulled a large blanket over him then climbed up and sat beside him on top of the blanket. She dug in her cloak for one of the two small bottles Matilda had given her earlier.

"What's that?" John asked.

Now it was Marian's turn to hesitate. For an instant she considered telling John it was something that would give him some additional strength in case they had to fight or run but she knew if the tables were turned she would not appreciate being so deceived. "Do you remember when Djaq made a potion to make Robin appear dead? So Carter could deliver him to the sheriff for the reward?"

John nodded. "This is the same?" he asked.

"Yes."

He eyed it warily. "Did Djaq make this?"

"No, Matilda did. I told her the recipe."

"Which Djaq taught you?"

"Yes."

"If something goes wrong I'll not know anything about it, will I? And I won't be able to help."

"No, John, you won't - but I promise this is our best chance at getting out of here. Trust me, please."

John held her gaze briefly then opened his mouth.

Marian poured a few drops in and put the stopper back in the bottle.

John made a face at the taste of the potion. He took a few breaths then his eyebrows knitted together and he frowned at Marian. "It didn't take this long with Robin, did it? Are you sure you got it.. got it..." His eyes glazed over and then started to close.

"I'm sure, John - there's just a little more of you than Robin." Marian gently smoothed the hair away from his face as his eyes shut.

"How long 'til he's dead?" Matilda asked in an urgent whisper from the front of the cart.

"It should be very quick once he's unconscious." Marian leaned over and placed her cheek next to John's mouth. There was no sign of breathing. She shuffled down the cart, put her head to his chest and listened for a heart beat but could hear nothing. "That's him gone already." Marian slid off the side of the cart and pulled the blanket up over John's head to cover him.

"Not for good we hope," Matilda said grimly. "Although it's the one that wakes him up again I _really _hope you remembered correctly. Right - give me a push off then you start crying and I'll start pulling!" Matilda yanked down on the cart's crossbar then leaned against it.

Marian moved round to the back of the cart where John's large feet stuck out from the bottom of the blanket, over the edge of the platform. She gave the cart a firm shove to help Matilda get it moving then walked alongside it, crying quietly but audibly and wiping her eyes with her headscarf.

They headed round the corner then across the courtyard towards the portcullis. The guards at the gate stepped in front of them as they approached, eyeing the cart suspiciously. "What you got 'ere then?" the taller of the two guards asked.

"I've got what used to be a good man and a decent husband till that bloody sheriff got his claws into him," Matilda replied venomously.

Marian sobbed a little louder, hoping Matilda would take the hint to be less confrontational.

The guard threw back the blanket covering the body and held his torch up to John's face. He grimaced at the state of the corpse then frowned as he took a closer look. "Here... I'n't that the outlaw we killed the other day? 'e looks pretty fresh..." He looked up curiously at Marian.

Marian wailed piteously into her scarf, holding her hands over her face.

"No, it's the outlaw the sheriff _pretended _to kill the other day and then tortured to death later," Matilda replied bitterly. "They wouldn't let us claim the body till today and now we know why - he only died this afternoon. The sheriff said me and his niece here could claim him as long as we took him away quietly in the middle of the night - so are you going to let us do that?"

The guard frowned. "I don't know anything about that." He turned to his comrade. "Did you know this? I thought Sir Guy cut 'is throat?"

The other guard shrugged. "No... but it wouldn't be the first time we were the last ones to hear about sumfin'."

"That's true."

"You better check 'im just the same," the second guard suggested.

Marian and Matilda exchanged worried glances as the first guard put his head near John's mouth then against John's chest.

"Naah - e's defn'ly dead all right," the first guard confirmed. He stepped back but still looked reluctant to let them pass.

"Look," Matilda reasoned with him. "We'd hardly be trying to steal a dead, naked outlaw in the middle of the night, would we? And if we were, we wouldn't be walking him out the front gate. How do you think we got him on the cart in the first place? Carried him? The dungeon guards helped bring him up and then they buggered back off downstairs." She softened her tone somewhat and gave the guard a surprisingly pathetic look. "Please - let us take him back to his family. We've missed him these years he's been outlawed - let us have him now."

Marian held her breath as the guards looked coldly at Matilda. Perhaps that last sentiment had been a bit too much.

The guard relented. "Yeah, s'pose so," he said sheepishly. "Can't see the 'arm... Get on with you then." He stepped back as Matilda strained against the crossbar again. Marian tugged the cover back over John's face, still sobbing and sniffling and wiping her face with her headscarf.

As they crossed under the portcullis and out into Nottingham, Marian's eyes met Matilda's.

Matilda gave her a surreptitious wink.

Marian was glad the scarf hid the smile she could not keep from her face.

Only one more gate to go and then... the forest - and freedom...


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** Updates are sadly going to be a little less frequent for the next few chapters, for which I can only apologise, but I'll try to at least do one a week. Thanks for your patience!

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Disclaimer** : BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary: **Into the woods...

* * *

**CHAPTER 17**

**~o~o~o~**

The hour was late but the day was not far past the summer solstice, and Nottingham was still bathed in twilight enough to see by as Marian and Matilda slowly made their way towards the town's west gate.

As they passed the end of the street leading up to the Trip Inn, Marian heard snatches of general merrymaking and even some singing. She hoped the choirmaster was who she suspected it to be and that he would have enough tunes in his repertoire to last a while yet.

The cart's wheels caught a few times in deep ruts or on cobblestones. Matilda grumbled under her breath about the misfortune of having to rescue Robin's biggest and heaviest outlaw until she barely had the breath left to do even that.

Marian stepped forward and took the crossbar on the other side of the central shaft.

Matilda looked over at her with a scowl and Marian feared for a moment she was about to be told off for over-exerting herself again, but then Matilda shook her head, rolled her eyes and nodded at the cross bar.

"Go on then, but if you start feeling faint at all, you must stop and let me know."

"I will," Marian promised.

"All right - and thank you."

Marian smiled and they set off again, side by side.

Thankfully the guards at Nottingham's main gate were much easier to convince than those at the castle had been, being far more interested in people trying to get into the town than out of it. Matilda quickly spun them the same story and then just had to point out that the guards at the castle had already let them through. They were allowed to leave town almost straight away.

Marian found herself thinking of all the women and even children she had passed many times, pulling loads far heavier than her current one. The stretch of road out towards the forest had never seemed quite so long when she had been on horseback.

Thankfully, the going was slightly easier here than in the town; all the wheel ruts led in the same direction and the road was dry. Dusk was quickly fading into darkness but there were still a few souls about. Marian's stomach tightened with nerves each time they passed or were overtaken by someone but she soon realised that two grieving peasant women pulling a body was no uncommon sight in Nottinghamshire. They didn't even merit a second glance from most other travellers.

By the time they reached the forest edge there was only the faintest hint of light left in the western sky, but the moon was nearly full and provided just enough light to see by. It filtered through the trees ahead in faint silvery shafts.

"Let's rest here a minute," Matilda said wearily. "I need to get my breath and you need to tell me where we're heading."

Marian sat down on the grass verge by the side of the road. She gratefully accepted the water flask that Matilda handed to her and took a drink before speaking. "There is a stable near here that I... that the Nightwatchman uses... used to use. It is hidden in the woods not far from the road."

"The Nightwatchman, eh? And you've sneaked out of the castle _how _many hundred times?" Matilda said shrewdly.

The denial was almost past Marian's lips when she changed her mind - Matilda deserved the truth. "Yes. I was the Nightwatchman," she said simply.

"Was?"

"Guy caught me - just a few weeks ago. He did not tell the sheriff but made me promise that the Nightwatchman would not be seen again."

"In return for?"

"Nothing. He didn't ask for anything in return."

"I find that hard to believe."

Marian hesitated before answering. "He only asked me to stay."

_"Stay - and make this place bearable."__  
__  
__How could I refuse him that? Not "stay and make things better" but stay and give him some hope - surely he would not ask for such a thing if he had none at all and no desire to change himself._..

"And you agreed," Matilda stated, shaking her head.

"He saved my life."

"And asked for it back in return. He knew your word would bind you to him more strongly than any chains he's had John wrapped in."

"It was a _request_."

"A request you know another feels duty bound to accept is no request at all."

Marian stood up and brushed down her skirt. "Even so - I told him I would stay."

Matilda looked at her open-mouthed. "You're going back, aren't you? You're not coming to Robin's camp."

"Robin would not understand."

"Too bloody right, he wouldn't! I'm not sure I do myself!"

"I am not going back for Guy - I am going back for Sarah. If I am not in my room come morning they will know she has helped me get away and when they find John gone also, they will know I helped him," Marian said defensively.

"And then Sarah will be the one feeling _Guy's_ tender mercies in that dungeon, no doubt." Matilda almost spat his name in disgust.

"He would never treat a woman like that!"

Matilda stood up and advanced on Marian. "He dragged me away from my daughter when she was hours from giving birth," she hissed. "Think he cares a fig for _women_? He cares for _ladies _- he cares for _you _- and you know it and you play on it - and one day it's going to come back and bite you!"

Marian stood her ground. "That is a risk I am willing to take. Robin needs me to be his eyes and ears at the castle."

"And what bits of you does Gisborne need?"

Marian gasped in anger and before she had time to think, her hand flew out and slapped Matilda's cheek. She froze as Matilda rubbed her face and nodded.

"I asked for that I suppose - but you mark my words, if the hope of _you _is all you're offering Gisborne then, when the day comes that you take that hope away from him, you better do it from a _long _way away."

"I am offering Guy the hope of _himself_," Marian insisted.

"I don't think he sees a difference." Matilda turned away abruptly. "Now - where's this stable? The night's wearing on and it's way past your bedtime."

Marian clenched her fists in exasperation but Matilda was right in one thing at least - time was running out and the hours of darkness would not last forever. "As I said - it's not far. There's a small track that branches off just a short distance ahead."

"Right. Still got that potion?"

Marian checked her cloak and nodded.

"Good. Let's get on then..."

~o~o~O~o~o~

She placed her hand against the cold skin... No breath. No steady beat of life under her fingers. Nothing. She let out a long sigh and shook her head.

"It's not your fault."

The words were meant to comfort her, she knew, but they sounded hollow to her ears. "Maybe if we'd got here sooner-" she started.

"We got here as quick as we could. You know that. You did everything you could." Robin placed his hand on Djaq's shoulder as she gently pulled the blanket over the child's face.

Abby Weaver sobbed and collapsed into the arms of her neighbours as Djaq turned away.

"I've seen wounds like that before," Robin continued. "Even if you could have saved her life, you would not have saved _her_. Maybe it is a mercy that she did not survive."

Djaq nodded but as she blinked her eyes, a single tear spilled down her cheek. She angrily brushed it away. "It's already dark. We should head back to the camp. Will and Much will be growing worried." _They will think I have caused your capture as well. Everything I do lately seems to turn for the worst... __  
_  
Robin put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her tightly. "You must be exhausted."

Djaq couldn't argue with that - she felt tired to her bones - and tomorrow they still had to go into Nottingham to try to see Marian.

Robin picked up her bag and slung it over his shoulder. At any other time Djaq would have glared at him for treating her so gallantly but for now, she was too numb to care.

"You'll feel better after a good night's sleep," Robin tried to reassure her as they headed for the trees.

Djaq doubted that. She had not had such a thing in three nights now but then she was more tired tonight than she had been for a long time. Maybe tonight would be different...


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:** Thanks again for your patience between increasingly random updates! RL stuff is settling down a bit so hopefully I'll be able to get back to a more regular schedule soon! Thanks also to my lovely betas **JAGNikJen **and **RobinFanatic **- you guys are the best!

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Disclaimer** : BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary: **Having got John out of the castle, Marian has to find a way back in...

* * *

**CHAPTER 18**

**~o~o~o~**

The Nightwatchman's stable was really little more than a large, well-concealed shed - set far enough back from the road that it was unlikely to be accidentally discovered but still close enough to be reached in haste.

"Cosy," Matilda said, glancing about.

Marian lit a lamp and gently pulled the door closed behind them. There was no way to secure it from the inside, since it was designed to open outwards, so she left it and turned back to Matilda. "It comes in handy. _Used _to come in handy." Marian corrected herself. "I couldn't use my horse but I know a few people who were happy to let the Nightwatchman 'borrow' theirs for the evening. If their horse was recognised they could just claim it was stolen. Usually I would leave it here and walk back to Knighton and they would collect it later. Sarah will tell the cart's owner where to find it tomorrow morning."

Matilda looked at the handcart and its still, silent passenger. "We'd better get our cargo off it then, hadn't we? Give me that potion."

Marian started rummaging in her cloak for the second small vial.

Matilda grinned. "Let's hope it's the right one and we're not about to give him Tristan and Iseult's love potion, eh? Last thing we need round here's a lovesick outlaw!"

Marian's head shot up in alarm and Matilda mentally kicked herself.

"I really should get back as soon as possible," Marian said hastily. "The longer I'm away, the more chance Guy may visit me again and find me gone."

"Don't you even want to wait and say hello to John again? I'm sure he'll want to say thank you," Matilda said desperately.

Marian looked stricken by indecision for a moment - the first crack of uncertainty Matilda had seen from her. "No, I really must go," she finally said, decisively. She put down the lamp and started edging towards the door.  
_  
__You know John won't let you leave once he wakes up,_ thought Matilda. "I tell you what - give me that potion before you run off with it." Matilda held out her hand and Marian started guilty as if she'd forgotten she still had it. "You go stand by the door. I'll give John the potion and tip you the nod when he wakes. You can sneak off and I'll tell him you had to leave us earlier - he's not to know."

Marian nodded gratefully, handed over the potion and then opened the door. She stepped outside and closed it over again almost all the way, leaving only a small crack to peer through.

Matilda took a quick glance down at John's various injuries. There was plenty there she'd rather have treated while he was still 'dead' but the work would be wasted if he never woke up at all - and Marian did have to get back, for whatever reason she wanted to give herself or others.

Matilda popped open the stopper in the vial, pulled John's jaw down to open his mouth slightly and poured a small amount between his lips.

For several nerve-racking moments nothing happened. Matilda leaned over and listened at John's mouth for any sign of his breath returning. It was his lips she felt before his breath however, as he gave her a tiny kiss on the cheek.

She straightened up and glared down at him. "The nerve! Honestly! You bring a man back from the dead and he starts taking all kinds of liberties!" Her face broke into a broad smile, mirroring his. "Hello, John." She glanced up towards the door as a slight rustle of movement let her know Marian had turned and headed back to Nottingham.

"Hello, Maddy." John blinked his eyes. "Where are we?"

"We're in a small shed in Sherwood, not far from Knighton - how are you feeling?"

"I feel... not bad, all things considered," he said.

"Mm, Marian said there's something in it that makes you feel a wee bit happy for a short while." She helped him slowly sit up and John swung his long legs over the side of the cart. "Don't worry - I've got just the antidote." Matilda rummaged in her bag and drew out some bandages, some thin strips of wood and a thick wooden peg about six inches long and sanded smooth.

John looked at them uncertainly. "Now?" he asked.

"Sorry, John. Best to get it over with quickly and nobody's going to hear you out here. Or we can do it back at the camp if you'd rather?"

John thought about it for a minute. "Here's fine."

"Do you want some more of that potion for the pain?"

He shook his head and gave her a small smile. "No. I'm not going to need that now," he replied.

"Good lad." Matilda patted him on his arm and handed him the wooden peg.

"Where is Marian anyway?" John asked, looking around.

Matilda took a deep breath. "She's gone back to the castle."

"She's _what_? _Why_?"

"Because if she's not there when Gisborne checks on her in the morning, Sarah's for the drop - that's why."

John frowned but accepted the answer at face value.

"She was sorry she couldn't stay and say hello to you personally but she wished you good health," Matilda continued._ Or at least I'm sure she does._

"And how's _her _health? Will she be all right?"

"Oh yes, she'll be right as rain in a few days - if she gets some rest. She'll not need to _act _too tired today, that's for sure."

John looked down at the cart he was sitting on. "You two pulled me all the way here from Nottingham on this?"

Matilda shrugged. "I've pulled heavier loads - and further - every time I had to move house. You were nothing. And Marian gave a hand for most of it."

"Brave lass, she is. You both are." John thoughtfully twirled the wooden peg in the fingers of his right hand then placed it between his teeth and held out his left. He gripped tightly to the edge of the cart with his now empty right hand.

Matilda stood between his knees and turned her back to him so he couldn't see what she was doing. She took hold of his hand and tucked his arm under hers then looked back over her shoulder at John. "Ready?"

He nodded then screwed his eyes shut.

Matilda firmly snapped John's ring finger back into place. She heard him let out a long cry, only slightly muffled by the piece of wood in his mouth. She turned to look at him again. His head was bowed and he was breathing heavily. "All right?"

There was a pause then John nodded.

Matilda didn't hesitate in grabbing his smallest finger and snapping that back as well. John let out another cry, weaker than the first and what _could_ have been a whimper that Matilda instantly decided she hadn't heard. She inspected his hand then picked up the strips of wood and placed them between his third, fourth and fifth fingers and up the outside of his hand before binding them all together. When she had finished she turned back and laid John's hand on his thigh.

"All done." She leaned over and looked at his back. "Everything else can wait until we get you home."

John didn't move so Matilda reached up and took hold of both ends of the wooden peg.

John slowly unclenched his jaw, allowing her to remove it.

She looked at it and grinned. "Nothing wrong with your teeth anyway!"

"Thanks," he gasped.

Matilda packed away her things then held out her hand to him. "Care to walk me home, John?"

John looked up and smiled as he took it. "It'd be my pleasure..."

~o~o~O~o~o~

The small figure stumbled wearily as it crept from alley to alley through Nottingham's darkened streets. There were a dozen easy ways to slip back into the town unobserved but the castle was an altogether different prospect... and Marian was exhausted. She leant against the side wall of a small house as a wave of dizziness hit her, reminding her she'd also had precious little to eat recently.

"You all right, love?"

Marian's heart stopped at the voice behind her. She quickly pulled her hood tighter around her face. "I'm fine, thank you, sir - and only a few steps from home now."

"Yeah, but climbin' that wall's gonna be a bit tricky if you can't keep your feet, innit?"

She looked round to see Allan looking at her with no little concern.

"You weren't fakin' it, were you?" he said softly. "You really 'ave been ill."

"Yes, Allan, I have," she replied. "And now I have to get back in before anyone realises I'm gone."

"Did you get the thing you wanted out from behind that door then?" Allan said nonchalantly.

"Yes, thank you Allan - and I'm still not going to tell you what it was." Marian couldn't help but smile at his nerve.

"Can't blame a bloke for tryin'..." He grinned. "Actually, that gives me an idea..."

_At least she's not eaten much for the last few days - that helps, _Allan thought slyly as he walked up the street carrying Marian in his arms. He approached the main gate of the castle as if he hadn't a care in the world and nodded to the guard on duty. "Evenin'!"

"Oh, it's you," the guard said. "Oo's 'at?" He gestured to the cloaked but clearly feminine figure in Allan's arms.

"Lovely girl I met at the Trip, innit? She's 'ad a little bit too much to drink, ain't cha, darlin'?" Allan leered down at his 'girl' and was rewarded with a furious scowl from Marian that fortunately only he saw. "So I'm gonna tuck her up in bed and let 'er sleep it off." He winked at the guard, trying to suggest that sleeping would not be their primary activity.

The guard shook his head and called to his comrades, "All right - let 'im pass!"

"_Darling_?" Marian muttered, as Allan walked across the courtyard.

"Yes, sweet'eart?" Allan grinned back at her and laughed softly as she surreptitiously punched his chest. He hadn't enjoyed himself this much in ages...

~o~o~O~o~o~

The guards by Lady Marian's room were already tired and bored when her maid came out to fetch more water for what seemed like the twentieth time that night. If she happened to have gained a little height as well as some water when she came back up the stairs from the well, they weren't to notice...


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** I know, I know, it's been _forever_. Thank you for being so patient. Thanks also to my lovely betas **JAGNikJen **and **RobinFanatic **for their continued encouragement.

**

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Disclaimer** : BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary: **The outlaws' camp receives some unexpected night-time visitors...

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**CHAPTER 19**

**~o~o~o~**

Though she would never admit it, Djaq could not deny it was comforting to see the relief on Will's face as she and Robin finally arrived back at the camp.

Will's expression switched to one of concern as he saw the blood on her clothes. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

Much came bounding up to Robin. "Master - you were gone so long... How is Marian? Did you see her? Has Djaq made her better?"

Robin held up his hands in an attempt to get a word in edgewise. "No, Much... There was an accident in Locksley which Djaq had to attend." He put his arm around Much's shoulders and steered him away towards the kitchen leaving Will and Djaq alone.

"An accident?" Will said.

"Yes. A child was hit in the head by a flail. She died."

"Whose child?"

Djaq had forgotten that Will knew everybody in Locksley as a friend and neighbour, not just another villager to be handed coin or food. "Abigail Weaver's youngest."

"Issy?"

Djaq nodded. "Yes."

"Poor Abby - she'd wanted a girl for so long," Will said sadly. He stepped forward and, without once glancing behind him to check where Robin and Much were, wrapped his arms around Djaq. "You must be exhausted."

Djaq closed her eyes and allowed herself to lean into his embrace. "I will certainly have no problems sleeping tonight," she admitted.

"Good. I know you've not been sleeping well since...these past few days," Will said. "Why don't you change out of that shirt and I'll fetch you something to eat?"

"Thank you."

After dinner they settled into their evening routine; Much cleared away the rest of their meal and washed the dishes, Will sat down with Robin in the main part of the camp to work on fletching some more arrows and Djaq sat by the fire at the camp entrance and tried to stop thinking quite so much.

"Here."

Djaq started in surprise. She had been so lost in her thoughts she hadn't even heard Much approaching. She had only meant to sit for a few minutes before turning in.

Much held out a cup to her. "I got fresh milk from Clun earlier. I warmed some - to help you sleep."

"Thank you, Much." She took it and smiled at him as he sat down beside her.

"Robin told me what happened in Locksley," Much said. "I'm sorry."

Djaq sighed. She stared into the fire again as she sipped at the soothing liquid. "There was not much I could do - except make sure she was in as little pain as possible."

"Still - that can't have been easy. It's hard when things like that happen and you... you think you should be able to do something about it and you can't."

Djaq nodded. "I remember the first time I was assisting my father and his patient died. Until then I thought he could cure anybody."

Much was about to speak again when they were both startled by the swishing noise of the camp door swinging up and open.

Djaq's stomach tightened in anticipation. Only two people were not present who knew the camp's location. Marian was ill - and also very unlikely to visit at this time of night - which only left Allan. The question was, had he come alone or brought his new friends with him?

A large figure shuffled forward into the firelight. It was an apparition straight from Djaq's recent nightmares; John - fresh from the grave, clad only in his leggings and with a filthy shroud thrown around his shoulders. His face and body were marked with deep bruises and his pale skin was streaked with dirt and blood running down his body from his neck. He held out his hand towards her and opened his mouth but no words came out.

Djaq barely noticed as the cup of milk slipped from her hands and dropped to the ground, spilling its contents over the dry earth. The rational part of her brain was screaming at her that it could _not _be a ghost and she so wanted to believe it was really him...but John could not be here. She had seen him die.

There was a muffled thump beside her, made by Much falling off his seat in a dead faint.

"_Bugger_." The apparition stumbled forward and fell to its knees beside Much, rolling him away from the fire before he hurt himself.

Djaq laughed in disbelief at the quiet curse word. Living or dead it was _definitely _John.

She got down on her knees beside him, reached out and touched his arm. His skin was cold but it wasn't the cold of a corpse - it was the cold of a living, breathing body not wearing enough on a cool summer's night. She laughed again but it became a sob halfway out of her mouth and tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "John..."

John looked across at her and smiled. "Hello, Djaq." His voice was even gruffer than she remembered and so hoarse she could barely hear him.

A loud scream from below them made them both jump.

Much's face was a mask of terror as he stared up at the figure leaning over him. "No, no, no, no..." He sat up and scrambled backwards into the camp in a panic, shaking his head.

John was startled by Much's reaction. "Much..."

"Much - Much, it's all right. He's not a ghost," Djaq tried to explain.

Robin and Will appeared at the other side of the fire with their weapons at the ready, roused by the commotion.

Much's back bumped up against Robin's legs and his head snapped round to look up at Robin in alarm.

Robin lowered his sword and put his hand on Much's shoulder to reassure him.

Much clutched Robin's hand in his and pointed with a shaking finger to the large figure kneeling next to Djaq in the firelight.

Robin stared at him and blinked several times as if unwilling to believe his eyes. "John?"

Will's face had turned white and his eyes were large with shock. "It can't be."

John nodded. "I didn't mean to frighten you... Should've thought, sor-" His head dropped and he coughed as his voice failed him before he could finish his apology.

Robin helped Much to his feet.

Much looked very embarrassed but not yet fully convinced either. "You... You can't be... They killed you. Gisborne slit your throat. We all saw him."

"It was a trick," John explained wearily. He looked up at them all. "Please. I'm no ghost, I promise."

Will stepped forward and reached down to touch John's face. He laughed as he felt for himself the very real flesh and blood under his fingers. The noise broke the tension in the camp and they all smiled as Will threw his arms around John and hugged him.

John groaned and Djaq shooed Will away. She noticed the splints on John's fingers for the first time. "You are hurt. What have they done to you?"

"Damn near everything they could think of," John grumbled. "I'd be dead for real if it weren't for my guardian angel." He turned his head and looked back to the camp entrance where Matilda stood watching the reunion with a large smile.

"Matilda." Robin strode over to her and wrapped her in a huge hug. "We thought you'd moved away."

"Lucky for this big ox I hadn't, eh?"

"But what are you doing here?"  
"How did you find John?"  
"Were you in the castle?"  
"Where is Rosa?"

The questions flew thick and fast as Matilda held her hands up. "Shush, shush, shush. There'll be plenty of time to answer questions in the morning. For now, if you'd like John to _stay _alive, I suggest we get him to his bed. He's had a rough couple of days."

Much and Will came forward and helped John get to his feet. They supported his weight between them as they walked to his bunk.

Matilda turned to Robin. "You'll be pleased to hear we both escaped with a little help from Marian - who _has _been unwell but is much recovered now."

"Marian?" Robin exclaimed.

Matilda nodded. "That's what I said."

John sat down on his bunk and nodded his thanks to Will and Much. His face was pale and drawn and his breathing was laboured.

Djaq had been carefully watching him. She was concerned at how much pain that short walk seemed to have caused him. Will and Much also exchanged worried glances.

"So where is she?" Robin asked as he looked around.

"Marian went back to the castle," John replied.

"And you _let _her? John, what were you _thinking_?" Robin burst out.

John hung his head. He opened his mouth to answer but Matilda beat him to it.

"He wasn't thinking anything. He was stone cold dead at the time," she snapped. "Marian was determined to go back for her maid's sake - and even if John had been awake and at full strength I doubt he'd have been able to stop her." She poked her finger into Robin's chest. "You of all people should know how hard it is to change Marian's mind once it's made up."

It was Robin's turn to hang his head in the face of Matilda's scolding. "Yes... Sorry, John."

Djaq went to her bed to fetch her medicines and returned as Matilda was lifting the rough blanket from John's shoulders. Djaq could not stop the small gasp of dismay that escaped her lips when the extent of John's injuries became clearer. "Oh, John."

"Aye - you're going to have your work cut out for you for a while, that's for sure," Matilda told her. "Lie down, John."

She helped John lie down on his right side, facing the wall of the camp. The worst of the damage - the burns, the broken fingers, his black eye - was on his left side.

Matilda and Djaq started looking at the cuts on John's back but the others stood around, paralysed by the realisation of what John must have gone through over the past few days.

"Is there... Is there anything we can do to help?" Robin asked.

"Not really," Matilda replied. "As long as there's plenty of water on the fire we should be fine. You lads should get some sleep." She turned back to her patient and gave a small chuckle. "Sounds like John's got a head start on you."

John's deepened breathing gave away the fact he had fallen asleep almost as soon as he'd laid his head down.

"Will he be all right?" Much asked.

Matilda shrugged. "Too soon to tell. Other than his fingers there's no broken bones, which is a small mercy. It's his head you'll need to look out for."

Much peered closer. "His head doesn't look too bad."

"She means the inside, Much," Robin said.

Matilda sighed. "John's tougher than most but Baldy will have got in there at least a little bit."

Robin's face darkened. "Vaizey and Gisborne are going to pay for this."

Will and Much murmured their agreement.

"I hope so," Matilda said. "But getting John better should be your first job, not that. So let me and Djaq take care of what we can now and we'll talk more in the morning."

Djaq pulled two stools over for her and Matilda to sit on and they set to work as the men drifted away to their bunks.

Djaq listened to Matilda's hushed voice explaining all of John's visible injuries and their causes, where known. She knew none of the men were asleep but the whispering was more for John's privacy than to afford peace for the other outlaws. She fought against the heaviness in her eyes as long as possible but, after a while, the details of knife cuts, whip cuts, bruises from batons, bruises from fists, rope burns, metal burns, broken bones and broken skin all began to merge into each other.

She was startled awake by Will shaking her shoulder. She had fallen asleep propped against John's bed, with a roll of bandages still in her hand.

Will helped her up and guided her over to her bunk. He gave her a small smile as he returned to his own bed.

Djaq rolled on to her side to look back across the camp. The empty space opposite was filled again. John was back where he should be, safe if not unharmed, and tomorrow they would begin in earnest the slow task of bringing him back completely.

She could not help but glance to the other empty bunk which presumably would become Matilda's later, even if only for tonight. Had Allan had anything to do with John's captivity and torture? She could not believe that would be the case but she would not find out for sure until they got more details from John and Matilda in the morning.

In the meantime Djaq's eyes closed again on the sight of Matilda, half-lit by firelight and working on by herself...


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** Thank you as ever to my wonderful betas **JAGNikJen **and **RobinFanatic.**

**wenrom31, jadey36, CindyUSA, richmoma8, Emmithar and KIsimpleS **- thank you _so _much for the reviews. They really do make me smile and encourage me to keep going.

**wenrom31- **so sorry to hear you've not been well. Hope you're better (or getting there). Glad you liked Djaq's POV but sorry to disappoint you - this is after 2x11 so Queen Eleanor has already been and gone.

**richmoma8 **- I'm so pleased you're enjoying it, thank you for reviewing! (All 19 chapters at once - wow! How long did that take you?) John centric stories are a rarity sadly (ones not written by me even more so!) but I'm always thrilled when people who prefer other characters and ships at least give him a try - and I'm trying to be more sympathetic to Guy here - which is a new experience for me since John doesn't like him that much ;) - hope it;s working!

**Emmithar - **you're not the only person to pull me up on Robin's behaviour so I guess I could have written that bit better. Robin is just stressed about Marian and he tends to lose his cool a bit - even with his friends - where she's concerned...**  
**

**

* * *

Disclaimer** : BBC and Tiger Aspect own everything.

**Summary: **Robin, Guy and Allan are woken unexpectedly...

* * *

**CHAPTER 20**

**~o~o~o~**

Robin woke with a start. The camp was flooded with early morning sunshine - one of the drawbacks of sleeping outdoors at this time of year. It was not the light that had awakened him however; Much was dreaming.

Robin lay facing the wall. Behind him he heard Much's quickened, unsettled breathing and restless movements from the bunk opposite. He didn't need to be able see Much to picture the frown on his face or the perspiration on his forehead. He had seen them all too often.

Robin sighed. He should go over and try to calm Much down. Much would do the same for him. But what if Much woke up? What if he woke and wanted to talk of what he had dreamed? It had been a while since Robin had dreamed of the Holy Land - what if hearing Much's memories brought his back? Much always found such vivid ways to describe what his mind's eye saw. Sometimes Robin could swear he could taste the blood and sand in his mouth as Much spoke.

Robin clutched his blanket a little tighter under his chin. A few minutes - he would wait a few minutes and maybe Much would stop by himself. He might not even be dreaming of the war.

"_Shh_. It's all right. You're safe. It's all right..."

_That's Much's voice... _Robin rolled over, confused.

Much was crouched by John's bunk, the one next to his along the opposite wall. He spoke softly into John's ear, being careful not to touch him.

It was John's laboured breathing that Robin had heard; John's long legs that twitched in anxiety as if trying to physically flee his demons.

Robin could not know for certain what, or who, haunted John's dreams but it would not be hard to guess. John's blanket had slipped from his shoulders as he slept, exposing the criss-cross pattern of scars across his back. The sunlight filtering through the trees above them cast some of his bruises into shadow but picked more out in a myriad of colours.

Robin had no wish to start thinking more about what John must have been through but at least in this case, he would only be imagining. John's nightmare thankfully was not also his. He never had to wonder what visions disturbed Much's sleep.

Robin whispered as loud as he dared, "How is he?"

Much looked up in surprise and spotted Robin watching him. He turned back to John. "He's calming. I think the dream is passing."

John's movements stilled and his breathing slowed to a more natural pace.

"I thought it was you," Much admitted. He put his hand out and stroked John's head.

John tensed and whimpered at the touch but, as Much continued reassuring him, he relaxed again and his breathing deepened further.

_You thought it was me and you got up. I thought it was you and I didn't,_ Robin berated himself.

Much stepped back. "I'm glad it worked." He turned towards Robin. "I just did the same thing I do when-"

Robin threw off his blanket, got up and grabbed his bow. "I'm wide awake now. I'll go see if I can find us some breakfast." He jogged out of the camp, not daring to look back even though he knew Much's eyes would follow him until he was out of sight.

**~o~o~o~**

Guy groaned at the banging on his door. It couldn't possibly be morning again so soon. It was barely five minutes since his eyes closed and he'd left strict instructions not to be woken unless...

He tore out of his bed, crossed the room and wrenched the door open. "She's awake?"

The guard standing on his threshold gave him a startled, confused look. He clearly had no idea to whom Guy was referring. Guy's shoulders slumped in disappointment and he turned away. His head snapped back round and he frowned as his still sluggish memory told him the guard was the one that should be downstairs with their special guest.

"Well? What is it?"

"He's...he's not there, Sir Guy. He's not there and-"

"What?" Guy grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck and hauled him into the room, slamming the door closed behind him. "Who's not there?"

"The outlaw, Sir Guy. I went to take over from Arthur and the door wasn't locked and Arthur was tied up with a big bump on his head and the outlaw's gone."

Guy pulled his jacket on and buckled it up. "He was half-dead and secured to the hanging table by iron cuffs. How in the name of Hades can he be gone?"

"I...I don't know, Sir Guy. Arthur said you brought the witch to see him late last night and that's the last thing he remembers."

"_I_ brought..." Guy stopped and forced himself to calm down. "Where is he now?"

"We...we don't know. He's gone."

"Not the outlaw - the guard," Guy snapped.

"He's still down there. I told him not to leave till I'd reported to you."

"Right." Guy strapped on his sword. "Follow me and keep your mouth shut. We'll check the witch's room first."

Matilda's room was exactly as he'd seen it last - except for there being no trace of the crone herself.

The injured guard's wits seemed even more lacking. He'd only seen Matilda and not whoever had hit him on the head.

"But you must have been with her, Sir Guy. How else could she have got in?" he protested.

How else indeed? There were only three keys to that door. The guard had one, he and the sheriff had the other two.

The table gave no further clues. The outlaw had not freed himself. Matilda - or her accomplice - had done that. A few crumbs on the floor hinted they had even taken the time to feed him before they left.

Guy knew once the sheriff heard the news it would certainly be no picnic.

"Find me the guards who were on the gate last night. There's someone I need to talk to first."

**~o~o~o~**

Allan had suffered several rude awakenings over the years but being hauled out of bed and thrown bodily against a wall by a snarling Guy of Gisborne had to rank in the top five.

"Where is he?" Guy grabbed Allan's shirt and shook him till Allan could almost hear his teeth rattling.

"Where's who?" Allan managed to stammer out.

"The outlaw, you idiot. The big one. How did he escape? I know you must have had _something _to do with it."

"The big... What, John? But he's dead."

Guy's icy blue stare searched every inch of Allan's face but for once Allan didn't even have to pretend to be ignorant.

"Where were you last night?" Guy asked.

"I went to the Trip. Sank a few jars, bit of a sing song, you know. What's going on?"

Guy let go of Allan's shirt and strode out of the room. "Follow me."

Allan grabbed his jacket and sword. He ran after Guy, struggling to keep up both with Guy's long stride and his own thoughts. John wasn't dead? And he'd escaped?

He stopped and a wide grin spread across his face.

_John's not dead._ He remembered Marian's words about the valuable contents of the hidden room. _'Guy will probably tell you himself'_ - and he just had.

"Allan!" Guy barked back at him but thankfully didn't spot Allan's expression.

Allan tried to look more serious and followed him to the guards' quarters.

Two men stood there, half-dressed and rubbing their eyes. A guard stood beside them.

Guy wasted no time. "You two were on gate duty last night?"

"Yes, Sir Guy," they chorused. The guards both looked tired, bewildered and nervous as hell. Allan imagined he must have looked pretty much the same ten minutes earlier.

"Did you see anyone leave the castle?" Guy asked.

"Well, him for a start," the shorter one said, pointing at Allan.

"Was he on his own?"

"Yeah - not when he came back though."

Guy turned to Allan. "Funny, you didn't mention that."

Allan held his hands up. "What? I thought you were worried about big, hairy blokes getting out, not pretty lasses getting in?"

"You mean that outlaw?" the first guard piped up.

The other guard glared at him as Guy spun around.

"Yes, the outlaw - you saw him?"

"Well, yeah. Two women took him out later on, on a cart. Said they was his relatives come for the body."

Guy's shoulders slumped. "Did you _check _him?"

"Of course. He was dead all right - no breathing, nothing - and he was in a right state."

Allan's earlier elation drained out through his boots as he considered what must have been going on behind that door. If Guy and the sheriff had been 'entertaining' John for over three days, he might very well be dead after all - or as good as.

_Three days..._ Allan tried to suppress a shiver. He'd barely gone three _hours _before giving in to Guy's 'persuasion'. Of course he'd only been asked to offer up a few pieces of information. They'd probably tried to get John to tell them where the camp was - and John would have died before telling them that; Allan was certain of it.

"Two women?" Guy asked.

"Yeah, older biddy with a face like a boot and her niece."

Guy rubbed his eyes. "So Matilda and her accomplice just walked out the front gate pulling the outlaw behind them... But why bother if he really was dead?"

Allan had a sudden thought. "Maybe he's not. Maybe they made him look dead using the same thing that Carter bloke used on Robin."

"Of course. That Saracen of his..." Guy said. He turned back to the guards. "Is there any chance the other woman was a Saracen? What did this niece look like?"

Allan held his breath and hoped Marian had kept her hood up.

"_Um_, she was..._er_...on the taller side and..._um_..."

"Hell's bells," Guy swore. "Are you even sure it _was _a woman?"

"Oh yeah," the guard said confidently. "Pretty sure anyway," he added.

"Weren't no Saracen." The second guard finally found his voice. "Saw her hands. Definitely English."

"Matilda's got a daughter - maybe it was her?" Allan suggested.

Guy grunted non-committally. "I still don't understand why Matilda would help the outlaw escape in the first place. She would have been able to move far quicker without him. Even if he's not dead she'll be lucky if he can walk."

Allan shrugged. "I dunno - maybe she fancies him?" He chuckled but his laughter died away as he saw Guy was giving that thought serious consideration.

"She did kiss him."

"She what? _John_?" Allan scoffed.

"I should never have left them alone together. She must have managed to get a message out when I took her to see..." Guy's voice trailed off and his face blanched. He ran from the room without uttering another word.

The guards looked after him in confusion then looked at Allan. "So, can we go back to bed?"

"What? Yeah, sure. Sleep well, lads."

Allan walked back out into the corridor. He knew exactly where Guy was headed and debated whether he should go after him. No - best to put some distance between himself and Marian, just in case. Guy didn't need reminding of the last time all three of them had been in a room together, right after someone escaped a hanging...


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N**: Trust me, I'm as surprised to see this as you are... Next (and final) part will be up much quicker!

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**Disclaimer**: BBC & TA own anything you find familiar.  
**Summary**: Matilda talks to the outlaws about the situation at the castle...

* * *

**CHAPTER 21**

**~O~O~**

The rest of the camp surfaced slowly and went about their morning routines in near total silence. John was still sound asleep and they were all intent on not waking him.

Robin returned empty-handed but there was enough food already in the larder for breakfast.

Matilda encouraged them to gather some little way outside the camp so they could talk quietly. "You need to get out there and start spreading the word that John's alive. He won't be well enough himself to go traipsing about the villages for a while but when he does, you don't want the villagers reacting to him the same way you did, do you? You have to let everybody know that he's not dead and, more importantly, he never _was _dead. Let them know what the sheriff did and how he tricked them."

"And how you and the Nightwatchman single handedly - well double handedly I suppose - snatched him right out from under the Sheriff's nose," Much said gleefully.

"No." Matilda was adamant.

"No? Why not?"

Matilda swatted him round the head. "Because I have enough trouble keeping the accusations of witchcraft from my door without people claiming I can raise the dead, thank you very much, Much. Keep me out of it."

"Oh... just the Nightwatchman then?" Will asked.

"No, _he _had nothing to do with it either."

"Why would Marian not want the Nightwatchman to take credit?" Robin asked. "She's never been shy before."

Matilda sighed. "The Nightwatchman has retired, left Nottingham for good."

"Well I can't say I'm sorry to hear it. It always been far too dangerous for her to carry on when she's staying in the castle. The chances of the Sheriff or Gisborne finding out-"

"Gisborne _has _found out. That's why she's given it up."

"So _that's_how he persuaded her to stay in the castle!" Robin fumed. "He's blackmailing her!"

"Shh - keep your voice down." Matilda hissed. "No, I don't believe so. I spoke to Marian and she says it's her choice. She still has this foolish notion that there's some good to be found in Gisborne."

"Must be really deep down," Much muttered.

"I'll help her look - with a knife," Robin said grimly. "She must have seen what he did to John. What he's done to countless others..."

"But she also sees how he is with her - and she wants to believe he can be that way with others too. I know you don't like it but Gisborne genuinely cares for her. She thinks she can use that to her advantage."

"But you don't?" Djaq asked.

Matilda shook her head. "I don't know. I think there's a chance, but he still has no idea of her feelings for you, Robin, and if it all goes wrong he could grow to hate her as much as he loves her."

"And she's completely on her own," Robin said.

"I wouldn't say that," Matilda smiled. "We had a little help getting out - she may have had the same getting back in."

"From who?" Robin asked.

"Allan," Djaq said. "It was Allan, wasn't it?"

Matilda nodded. "He knew nothing about John being kept in that hidden dungeon. Still doesn't unless Marian told him - but he risked his neck to help us and for that I'll always be grateful to the lad."

"He's just doing what he always does," Robin said. "Trying to convince everybody he's on their side while sticking to his own."

"You think what you like," Matilda replied. "But I think there's far more chance of finding good in Allan than there is in Gisborne."

"There's little in either of them - but I won't say none."

Everyone turned at the sound of the hoarse deep voice. "John!" "You shouldn't be up." "How are you?"

John waved off their concerns. "I'm fine. Better if I can get something to eat and a wash."

Matilda stood up. "You go start on the washing and I'll get you something warm for when you're done. No sense having hot food right before a cold wash."

John nodded and headed off in the direction of the river.

"Wait...did John just say he didn't think Gisborne is all bad?" Will asked.

"Like one white hair makes a cat not all black," Robin scoffed.

"What on earth would make him think that though?" Djaq wondered.

"Nothing he'll want to talk about, " Matilda said firmly. "Best not mention the past few days at all, I think."

Much opened his mouth.

"_At all_, Much."

Much folded his arms and _humphed _in annoyance. "Talking _does _help sometimes."

"And sometimes it doesn't. He'll talk when he's ready - it's not for you to drag it out of him."

Much nodded. No-one but Matilda saw the look he gave Robin...


End file.
